All I Ever Needed
by JCLeo
Summary: *SEQUEL TO NEVER GONNA BE ALONE* - SUMMARY INSIDE! When Ricky has a surprise visit in LA, he learns of his father's true plans: Amy or John - Ricky must choose in CHAPTER FOURTEEN, "Choices"!
1. Summary

**"All I Ever Needed" Summary**

**J.C. Leonard**

One step forward, two steps back.

To Ricky, kneeling in pain on the cold, hard pavement, a hole blown through his life, it seemed as if he was thrown back too many steps for him to handle.

After their progressive trip to the lavish hotel resort, Amy and Ricky found themselves growing closer not only as parents, but as something deeper. All of their feelings culminated into one night...only to be torn down.

An unexpected visitor pushed Ricky to his limits, and shattered the core of a newfound family.

Now, in the wake of his son's disappearance, Ricky finds himself falling back, deeper than ever, into darkness. With the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders, the young father severs his relationships and begins to fall apart in the wake of his guilt and heartache.

Leaving Amy, his family, and friends behind, Ricky sets out in search of his son.

One little soul brought them all together, and now it threatens to rip them apart forever.


	2. Broken

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter I: "Broken"_

_ "NO! He's got my son! He's got my son!"_

From the memories of my past, and of my actions over the course of my life, I have long feared the ultimate persecution, and this is it. And the mere thought is more than I can bear.

The bond between a father and son is strong and unique, unlike anything else in the world. I was separated from my father at a young age for all the wrong reasons; this is even worse. Nothing else seems to matter anymore; nothing else is important. I want my son back.

* * *

One step forward, two steps back.

To Ricky, kneeling in agonizing pain on the cold, raw pavement, a hole blown through his life, it seemed as if he was thrown back too many steps for him to handle.

He had screamed out, in rage and terror, at the lights that faded into the distance. Over and over, again, the words he cried out echoed inside of him, as slicing daggers in his heart. For Ricky had been helpless--helpless to do anything as his son, John, was literally ripped away from him.

Ripped from his very core.

"He's got my son," Ricky whispered to himself, almost in disbelief as he stared blankly out into the darkness. His chest heaved mercilessly as his body began to give way. Ricky felt himself go numb, and his mind was on the very brink of exploding from the mass concoction of thoughts chaotically clashing inside of his head.

Ricky dropped his head into his hands, palms torn by the unforgiving asphalt, and began to sob silently, struck still in shock.

Alone, sitting in the middle of a dark, uninhabited street, the last faint illumination of light flickered as a street light overhead crackled and extinguished. The night crept in, and darkness took him, slithering inside and contaminating the young man. Ricky's body trembled as the hot tears cascaded viciously down his cheeks in multitudes.

"My son," he repeated through his soft sobs.

His heart pounded ferociously in his chest, and blood continued to drip from his chin onto the ground beneath him. The stillness of the air seemed faint with regards to his labored breathing and soft cries.

With rage and sadness erupting inside of him, he felt all go hazy, his surroundings blurred, and then Ricky's head fell to the pavement.

* * *

_Beep...Beep...Beep...Beep..._

The soft yet significant repetitive sound shot out continuously through the air. The noise itself was coming from a monitor, which hung near the side of a bed. A prominent green line traveled across the screen of this monitor, rhythmically jolting up and down in spikes, sometimes with equal distances...sometimes not.

In the white-linen clothed bed below the machine, lay a young girl, sleeping, or unconscious, but at least resting. Or at least she appeared to be; her face told a different story. The right side of her face twitched as she turned her head over to the other side, and her usually beautiful, young face was bruised and cut.

Covered in sheets, her abdomen steadily rose and fell with gracefulness; her hair swept to one side, wrinkled and out of place.

Amy Juergens was at peace, or at least looked it, for now. It was unknown what would happen when she woke up.

The light of the morning sun shifted above the horizon, over the lush, green hills and slammed against the walls of the hospital. Outside, the beauty of the southern California atmosphere still overwhelmed the people, what with the birds happily chirping, the scent of the ocean wind. However, inside the cold structure, a place a lot of people seem to despise, a young mother lay unknowing and injured--in darkness.

The blinds to her room were shut, so as to not allow light to penetrate and potentially disturb her. In doing so, the only faint illumination was the lights from the monitor, which still continued to beep softly. The room itself was rather average, if one might say, in regards to size of a hospital room. In the back corner, a small area with a couch and reclining chair, and behind that was a glass window which overlooked the scenery. Towards the front was the bed faced in a diagonal position with a small T.V. hanging from the ceiling. Around the bed, an assortment of machinery and blinking lights.

All in all, it was not a hell hole, but it was not a place to call home, either. Hospitals are viewed as safe havens that are able to help you, but also cold and gloomy. But right now, she, of all people, didn't seem to matter. For she remained still and silent in the bed, her eyes, one swollen, closed.

A man stood over her, his slender frame slouched as he peered down upon her beaten body. He reached out and took her limp hand in his.

"I'm here, Amy," Ben said.

* * *

Elsewhere, just down the hall to be exact, in a very similar room, a young man lay immobile in a bed, his eyes sealed shut. His chest rose and descended almost violently, as his breathing was controlled by a machine, a mask attached to his mouth. Over the rhythmic, yet sometimes erratic, heart rate beeping, the pulsating sound of forced air pumping in and out of his body filled the room.

It was difficult to tell, like the young girl just down the way, if this man was unconscious or simply sleeping. But it mattered not; not with this one. From the random palpitations and labored breathing, the sweat that trickled down the sides of his head, and the rapid eye movements through his closed lids, one could tell that obviously something was on his mind.

Ricky Underwood lay, helpless and broken, not in peace.

* * *

George Juergens quickly descended the stairs of his house in response to the blaring sound of the telephone ringing, echoing throughout the house.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he muttered, glancing over at the clock hanging above the wall. "Who would be calling this early in the morning?"

The sun had barely begun to rise, and the life of the world was just beginning to stir for a new day, but the man had been unceremoniously ripped from his slumber.

"Hello?" He shot into the phone, apparently displeased for being disturbed, much less by a phone call at 5:30 in the morning.

"Hello, Mr. Juergens?" Came a solemn voice from the other line.

"Yes, who's this? And why are you calling so early?"

"My name is Officer J. Trager with the California State Police. Sir, there's something you need to know."

George grew very serious, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Is everything okay with Amy?" The father asked.


	3. Aftermath

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter II: "Aftermath"_

"Adrian?"

No response.

"Adrian?" Came her fathers voice from behind the solid wood door. He repeated her name over again, this time becoming more stern, yet still drew no answer.

The young teen sat still on her bed, staring across the room into the wall or, more or less, nothingness. And that was precisely how she felt-empty, nothing. Ever since the doctor had told her-and now with Ben gone, everything that had transpired since the revelation of her pregnancy had fluctuated her moods, and it was exhausting her.

She blinked her eyes once, and then once more, this time slower. Adrian reached down and rested her hand over her abdomen...

Was this how Amy felt?

No, it couldn't be. Amy had someone there for her...someone who should be there for Adrian herself...right? Yes, of course he should. But Ben wasn't, at least not right now.

And that plagued her.

"Adrian." Reuben's profound, escalated voice broke her from her trance.

"Hold on," she said, snapping her head in the direction of the door as she ascended the bed, sluggishly walking over to adhere to her father's knocking.

"What?" She said, opening the door.

It was then the pregnant teen was surprised at what she saw. Her father stood in front of her, a deeply concerned look spread across his face.

Adrian's face grew quizzical as she listened to her father's words, "Have you watched the news this morning?"

* * *

The cold darkness of the room seemed to swallow whole the young man who occupied it, laying in a white clothed bed. Apart from the rhythmic beep, and the assortment of various blinking lights, the initial loud pumping of the respirator had decreased, for too had his eradicated breathing.

His chest rose and fell slower, his heart less un-caged. All in all, Ricky was more calm than before, and he was going to need his composure.

The blinds to the glass door suddenly opened slightly, and a small whoosh was heard as air escaped through the door as it was opened, and in stepped a young female nurse, around her mid twenties, and quite fair with long, blond hair.

Holding a clipboard with various papers, she walked swiftly to his side, looking up to check the numbers of his vitals recorded on the screen of the monitor.

Ricky's body twitched slightly and he groaned, his eyelids fluttering briefly. Catching the attention of the nurse, she looked down upon his torn face, intrigued.

"Ricky, can you hear me?"

"...Yes," he replied after a short pause. His eyes fluttered again, and his chest ascended greatly as he took in a deep breathe. "Where is Amy?" He questioned, reaching out to grab hold of her hand. "Is she safe-is she alright?"

The nurse placed his hand back to his side, "she's right down the hallway resting, as you should be." Her voice was calm and soothing.

Ricky moaned slightly again, muttering inaudibly. He readjusted his head on the pillow as the heart rate monitor spiked.

"John?"

The nurse could only scrunch her face and frown before Ricky drifted back off to an uncomfortable sleep.

* * *

Through the darkness of the room, a figure was seen pulling on a string, and opened the blinds, sending them up above the window. Powerful rays of light flooded in, enveloping the room and eliminated the dark.

The young woman lying in the bed twitched her face and fidgeted slightly as the hot light cast across her face. Her eyes fluttered swiftly, and then scrunched closed, trying her hardest to rid herself of the blinding shine.

After a moment, she slowly opened her eyes, as they became adjusted to her surroundings, and drew a soft sigh of relief from the people standing around her.

"Amy?" It was her mother, smiling softly down over her, yet a concerned gleam in her eye.

Amy's eyes widened as best they could in surprise, and she looked around her bed, seeing her father, sister, and Ben all peering down.

"Good to see you're awake, kiddo," George said, although his face bore more concern than relief.

Amy continued looking at everyone around here, somewhat stunned and at a loss for words, given light to recent events, and where she was now.

"Where am I?" She moaned softly, laying her head back against the pillow, "I'm so tired."

"You're safe, Amy," Ben chimed in, reaching down and grasping one of her limp hands in his, clutching it tight. "We're all here."

Amy remained semi unconscious, almost completely unaware of what was going on, yet just awake enough to communicate. Her head was swirling, her memory hazed, and she couldn't remember anything, anything that happened after...

"Where's John?" The young mother's voice became sharp. "And Ricky?"

Ben and Amy's family exchanged nervous and concerned glances, as if looking to another to say what nobody wanted to.

"Ricky...is down the hall, and he's fine," Ben said soothingly, attempting to calm her as much as possible.

Amy's face scrunched, turning towards him, "Where is my son?"

Ben sighed and lowered his head; why did he have to be the one to do this? He had looked around at Ashley, Anne and George, but it seemed that, even though they presented themselves convincingly, inside they were all crippled in pain.

"John," Ben continued softly, grasping harder onto her hand as she stared back at him with a dreaded look. "They're searching for him, Amy. Right now they're doing the best they can to find him."

Amy's look of terror shrunk into a blank expression, a void of silence and disbelief, coupled with a sudden sting of pure agony that pierced her heart. She felt as if her insides were going to be ripped apart mercilessly, and in a way she welcomed that for the moment. The young mother drew short of breathe, her eyes widened, and the words of Ben repeating over and over inside her head, echoing in her very soul.

"My son." Amy said with an exasperated breathe, "where is my son?"

Anne looked at Ben, who lowered his head, feeling a hot sting rush over him, and then she looked at George, and they exchanged looks once again.

"Amy," her mother said, "John is..."

"No," she replied, her body beginning to shake as her face grew hot, tears beginning to well in the corners of her eyes. "My son, where is he?"

"He's...gone, Ames," George said with sorrow, his voice cracking as he looked down upon his distressed daughter.

"They're doing everything they can to-," Ashley tried to assure.

"No!" Amy yelled, every inch of her beginning to tremble harder, and she began to sob.. "Where is my son, John?" She sat up in the bed, the tears vigorously cascading down her cheeks.


	4. Recollection

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter III: "Recollection"_

Dead silence emanated throughout the hospital hallways that night. The floor the two injured parents were staying on seemed as a ghost town; not a soul moved-not a sound penetrated the crisp night air.

At the front desk, a lanky, older, yet gentle man sat in front of several computer screens, each with their own personal green line running across it, spiking in rhythm, for the most part. His eye-lids had begun to sink, and he very well might've knocked his head straight on the desk if his hand hadn't been lazily propping him up.

After all, it was the gravedigger shift. There wasn't anything to be had-done, or said. All of the night nurses either had retreated to their quarters until it was the routine time to check the patient's vitals or when a few swiftly and quietly slipped passed the desk in the hallway, as transparent wisps of wind.

The man closed his eyes and scrunched his face, feeling his temples throb-and he almost instinctively glanced up at the clock on the wall, grimacing once reading it.

2:45.

Who would _want _to be up at 2:45 A.M.?

Another nurse in white slipped passed the desk, slightly startling the man-he had just recently taken over the night shift, and was still getting used to the seemingly unusual quietness and, strangely, eeriness. Hospitals are cold, gloomy, and dark to some.

As it seemed, this description matched perfectly both Ricky and Amy's moods.

* * *

From within the sealed room, the only light that came forth was a dull, shielded illumination pushing against the closed blinds on the glass window separating the rooms from the hallways. Every once and awhile shadows would cast against the blinds, silhouetting unknown hospital figures as they leisurely passed by.

Within the room itself, once again the body of a young man lay perfectly still, his hands resting at his sides, and his chest rising and falling slowly as he breathed. Ricky Underwood had several leads stuck to his chest to monitor his heart, a respirator mask placed over his mouth, and a bandage on his forehead that would certainly pain to be taken off when the time came. Truly, he was still crippled, and his physical injuries were the least of his problems.

For the majority of the day, the young father had either slept uncomfortably or simply lay in bed, the weight of the world crushing down upon his body as he looked straight up into the ceiling. There was nothing Ricky could feel at the moment; he couldn't think straight-comprehend the situation as it was. In his mind, he kept trying to tell himself that it was all a dream, and that soon he'd wake up from it. But, he never did. And thus, Ricky lay, his spirit lacerated and maimed, the shell of a broken man without the will to sit up.

And no one tried to convince him otherwise; because quite frankly nobody blamed him.

Even with his lids closed, his eyes were still visibly darting here and there, as if he was locked in a frantic dream, trying to escape something that was chasing him-a deadly enemy, perhaps.

There was no escaping this.

There was a slight knock on the glass door, and Ricky's eyes shot open, gasping slightly as a loud whoosh rang out when it was opened.

Ricky remained slightly dazed for a moment, after all he had just been woke from his not-so-comfortable slumber, and had a hard time comprehending the situation now-distinguishing dream from reality.

The young father wrestled his heavy head off the soft pillow and hazily looked up in front of him. The dark room which he occupied had now been filled with a small pathway of light that burst in thru the open doorway. However, it's pureness was altered by the presence of a figure-a dark, blank silhouette that peered across the room at Ricky, who was both confused and dumbfounded. Was this a dream?

After a brief moment, Ricky began to experience an uneasy feeling knotted in the pit of his stomach, and he felt his brow furrow, his face becoming hot. Even though the person before him could not be seen, Ricky knew-he felt that, whoever it was, their eyes were shooting down at him. And he couldn't help but feel, whether this was real or fabricated, that profound gaze pierced his body, darting thru his very being.

Ricky exhaled nervously.

"Hi, Ricky," Bob said.

And suddenly Ricky was running, far and fast; his feet, one after the other, slamming down on the hard ground, his bare appendages being torn and cut by the unforgiving asphalt. But it mattered not to him, for he could feel the looming presence behind him, a stalking entity that seemed to be toying with him, silently laughing to itself.

He couldn't see where he was going-the thick blackness of night prevented that, shielding him from even more clarity-and this only frightened him more. Ricky's mind was exploding with chaos-every single thought seemed to trigger an emotion outburst-only to clash with yet another one milliseconds later.

As he barreled down the pavement of an unknown area, Ricky's maimed feet, scraped and bloodied badly, began to go numb, his legs starting to give way. But still he pressed on, trying desperately to get away from...whatever it was that was following him. For a moment, as the young man utilized every ounce of lasting strength and endurance his tired muscles would give him, Ricky's brain suddenly stopped-all of the chaotic thoughts freezing abruptly, and suddenly he wondered-asking himself: Who was he running from? Why?

This brief pause along exhausted condition of his legs combined as Ricky felt himself slow slightly, he took one gasp of pointless air in, and suddenly he fell, hard and fast to the pavement.

And there was a flash of white light that illuminated and blinded his vision, and then all went black.

The silence of darkness seemed to last for millenia; and there were no stars overhead-perhaps they too had given up on Ricky.

Bloody and broken, the young father sat hunched over in an unknown place full of pitch blackness. The only sound that penetrated the cold silence was his labored yet quiet breathing.

Ricky leaned his head up, opening and closing his eyes several times in an attempt to adjust to the world around him, but to no avail.

Once again, he felt alone-nobody was there. Darkness took him, and Ricky found himself...losing his will.

His will to live, to fight. To fight for...

Ricky suddenly awoke, confused and disoriented, panting heavily as he lay in a soaked bed of his own sweat. He looked around frantically, and was surprised that there was no one there-and he could actually see: He was back in the hospital room, and everything was normal...yet still quiet.

It had all been a dream...hadn't it? Or was it a defining moment in his life: Had he truly lost the will to fight for-

"John," Ricky said out loud in an exasperated breathe.


	5. Agony

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter IV: "Agony"_

The sun had begun to rise, lifting its powerful rays of bright, morning orange and yellow light above the lush green hills and pounding against the hospital structure, puncturing thru the blinds of the windows, and shining slits of illumination into the rooms.

Amy now had the strength to sit up, briefly taking short walks about the room in attempt to get her legs back, even though she remained very wobbly and uneasy. But to her, and those around her, the loss of her son was like a direct blow to the heart-and even though she wanted to leave the hospital and search for her son-they wouldn't let her. They had it under control, they said. The confidence which the authorities spoke with only slightly dampened the torment the young mother was being put through. Amy had gone nearly sleepless the past two nights, tossing and turning endlessly-trying to find a comfort somewhere...but there was none.

Three nights and two days had past since John was abducted by Ricky's father, for three nights and two days two families, along with their friends, had been in pain for the loss.

And for three nights and two days Amy had not seen Ricky; she had seen no one else besides her mother, father, sister, and occasionally Ben-although they were all starting to annoy her. She just wanted out...yet when she thought about it, she wouldn't know what to do when she did finally. She knew that they were helping her recover here, and Amy knew the police were doing their best, it was just the feeling of being forcefully held-as a captive in a prison cell, for that is what it felt like to her.

George, Anne, and Ashley had all finally driven back to their home to sufficiently rest and clean up having been at the hospital for two straight days, and that left Amy alone.

As the slivers of pure lights created by the shielding blinds unraveled over her body, Amy started to stir slightly, feeling the warmth against her face. She awoke sleepily, gently lifting one eyelid open as best she could and taking a glance around. She was happy that it was morning.

Amy's night had been filled with nightmares-random vague visions of bad things happening in her life-to John, to Ricky. She had woken up in a cold sweat numerous times, her chest heaving as she was out of breathe. She began to lose hope, and prayed for something for something to calm her. If nothing could keep the dreams away in here, the hospital, where they're supposed to be helping you, then was there any hope left at all?

It scared the young mother even more to think that she was, more or less, "trapped" inside this building, and her son was out there-she hoped, somewhere...

During the night Amy had curled up into a tight ball, wrapping her hands around her shins and pulling her legs close to her chest. She could feel the solid walls closing in about her, the air roughly cold.

But now that the sun shone thru, Amy's mood lightened ever so slightly, and she no longer feared the darkness, for right now. She felt slightly motivated to do something-anything.

Through the closed blinds, Amy could see the shadows of numerous men and women walk back and forth, their silhouettes traveling from one end of the screened windows to the next, and out of sight. Their soft chatter encouraged Amy, and let her know that indeed what she had experienced the previous night were just dreams, and now there was actually life, and the hope of a new day.

Amy sat up slowly, gently rubbing her temples as her head still pained her. She could now start to see more clearly out of her right eye, and could feel more strength and stability course thru her leg muscles.

She mustered all of her strength and pulled her two legs up and over the side of the bed, leaving them dangling. Amy took in a deep breathe and exhaled, feeling the cool air fill her lungs, rejuvinating her. The young mother glanced over to the blinded window and the sun shone as slits on her face-

"Amy, you're awake." Her trance was cut off by the voice of a concerned, yet caring young man.

"Ben," Amy said, rubbing her eyes as they tried desperately to adjust to the sunlight.

"How're you feeling?" He asked curiously, kneeling beside her bed.

"Where's my family?" She said groggily, glancing about the room. "Aren't they here?"

Ben twitched the corner of his mouth. "They were here. I mean-they have been. They just went home to refresh themselves-two straight days at the hospital will do that to you, I suppose."

"Two days?" She looked at him almost in a mild shade of disbelief. "I've been out for two days?"

"Mostly," Ben tried to force a small smile. "There have been times-little short moments where you've woken up. But the doctor said you wouldn't remember any of it," he said in response to her ever growing confused expression. "They've tried to keep you pretty calm after..."

Amy's mind suddenly flooded with the hazy remembrance of the moment she had first woken up-and learned of John's fate.

"John," finished for him quite blankly.

Ben nodded his head in reluctant agreement. "Yes, they're doing their best to find him. I'm sure its only a matter of time."

He reached out and grabbed her hand, caressing it softly as he stared in her eyes, trying to assure her that everything was going to be okay. And Amy felt a strange pull, and stared back at him, a small smile etched on her face. Right now, she believed Ben. Everything was going to be alright.

The tender moment between the two was suddenly broken by the ringing of Ben's cell phone. "Oh," he said slightly startled, moving to hurriedly remove it from his pocket so that the profound ringing wouldn't upset Amy in any way.

"Hello?" He said answering.

"Ben," came the solemn voice on the other end.

The young man closed her eyes. Not now. It was Adrian. "Hi, Adrian," he addressed her back, trying to keep all of his emotions in check. "What do you need?"

Adrian sat in her room, alone on her bed, her palm covering her stomach.

She closed her eyes and exhaled softly. "Ben, we need to talk. There's something...something-"

And so the day slowly passed. Amy remained confined in her room, trying to find random things to keep herself occupied and her mind off of things. She had tried talking to Ben on the phone, but that and anything else couldn't keep her from thinking of John in the back of her mind.

They said they were doing the best they could in finding him, that they had launched a full investigation. And Amy understood that, given the general idea of the loss of a child, but at the same time it frightened her; the overwhelming variables only added to her already hopeless feelings.

And suddenly, Amy saw him. The young toddler seemed to magically appear in her arms, and by just the sight of his smile, it brought a fierce relief and joy to Amy's heart. She felt tears well in the corners of her eyes as she looked down upon her son, John, who looked back up at his mother. Together they formed a close, unbreakable bond, locked in pure life.

"John," she whispered solemnly, bringing the child tightly to her chest.

The young child cringed, his face becoming red and wrinkled as he started to cry, reaching out and grabbing at Amy. And strangely it seemed to her that he wasn't touching her, but instead grabbing the air. Amy gasped in horror as her son began to disappear from her very arms, crying and extending his tiny hands desperately for his mother, yet either was unable to grab the other.

Amy suddenly found herself surrounded by darkness, a raw, cold feeling prickled against her skin. There was a loud thud, causing her to look up, and before her was a silhouetted figure of an unknown man.

There was a flash, and as soon as it had begun, Amy woke with a start, sitting up straight in bed, screaming as several nurses tried to hold her down as she flailed her arms and legs, trying desperately to ascend from the bed.

"NO!" She screamed in terror. "John!"

From outside the dark room, peering in thru the transparent windows, was a young man, a distraught look plastered across his face as he reached out and placed his palm against the glass.

It was in that moment that Ricky knew he couldn't face her again. He had to get away.


	6. Disappearance

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter V: "Disappearance"_

The front door to the house profoundly swung open, and the young teenager was filled with a strange-placed sense of freedom as she stepped solemnly into her house. The past few days had been hell on earth for Amy Juergens, and through all of the pain and heartache, she was touched with a subtle sense of content as she re-entered her home.

She paused in the doorway and took a brief moment to glance around the structure, taking in what seemed every little detail that she had not noticed before. On the walls were no pictures of their family, and even with the sun shining outside, the very rooms of the home emanated darkness and loneliness.

For whatever contentment Amy had received knowing she finally was allowed to leave the hospital and come back home-it was just that; this wasn't home anymore.

And it devastated her knowing that to her back lay the vast and open world, and somewhere, she prayed, John was out there.

Amy moved along now inside the hallway, running her fingers gently over the surfaces of the colored walls or furniture. She continued to glance around, and even though she had been gone a little over one week, she treated the situation as a recollection of memories seemingly made forever ago.

She continued to walk, slightly dragging her feet across the floor; Amy was so tired. The emotional and physical stress had taken its toll on her these past few days. It was then that she came to a mirror hanging straight against a wall. She began to turn towards it slightly, but recoiled sharply, not wanting to glance at herself...she knew she looked ugly. But as she stood there, trying hard to resist the urge to glance into the glass, that perhaps it wasn't the fact that her physical appearance was still battered and bruised from what had happened, but because she couldn't live to see herself.

Amy exhaled sharply as she licked her lips. She...couldn't look at the mirror-she'd see him. She knew she would. And if she did, the teenager didn't know if she could withstand another onslaught of tears and pain. Amy felt as if she had let her son, her own child, down as a human being and especially, if not most importantly, as a parent-a caregiver of life.

Amy exhaled again, and brushed her bangs from her eyes, manipulating a forced scoff as she tried to blow off these swelling feelings inside as some psychological moment that would soon pass. She turned towards the mirror and stared, wincing slightly at the sight before her.

Her eye was still half swollen, but not as red, and the cuts on her face had begun to heal considerably. But of most importance, Amy stared one on one into the abyssal eyes that reflected back into her. She felt a minimal sense of coldness singe her and again felt despair. In a way she had been right. For looking into her own eyes, she saw her son, and looking at her son, she saw his father.

"Amy?" Her trance was abruptly ended by the voice of her mother calling her name. "Amy, are you okay?" Anne walked out of the kitchen into the hallway where Amy was standing, a concerned look on her face.

Amy's lips made inaudible movements, as if she was searching for lost words, and she quickly turned her back to her mother, and darted for the stairs. As she reached her room, she slammed shut the door behind her and collapsed against it, feeling a tear slide down her cut cheek.

* * *

A loud knock was heard on the door...and then all went silent. And then another knock, still with no response, and thus another, each getting louder than its predecessor.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Adrian said as she darted down the stairs, careful not to trip as she glided over to the door as the knocking continued.

"What?" Adrian said exasperated, swinging open the wooden door, only to her surprise at who stood before her.

"Hi...Adrian," Ashley said, looking at the pregnant teen up and down.

"Oh, h-hi Ashley," Adrian forced a smile even though she felt increasingly sick that morning, "how're you-how's Amy?"

"We just got back," Ashley turned her head in the direction of her house. "They're all getting unpacked, and Amy just barricaded herself in her room, basically."

"She's not doing so well?" Adrian replied.

Ashley responded with a sarcastic look. "Wouldn't you be upset?"

In hearing this, Adrian's eyes dropped to the floor, and her face slightly cringed.

"I'm sorry," Ashley said, realizing the effect her words seemingly had on Adrian's...situation. "I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Adrian cut her off, scoffing slightly. "I've been wanting to talk to my parents about it, but they're at odds at what decision I should make. And I just can't confront Ben about it right now. It's hard, you know?"

"Yeah I do know," Ashley replied. "And you can't avoid him forever. Sooner or later you and Ben are going to have to thoroughly talk about your...situation."

"A part of me just wants...get away."

"So get away."

Adrian looked quizzically at Ashley; her words seemed so simple.

* * *

For what seemed like days to her, Amy sat alone and in despair inside of her bedroom. The very walls room felt as if they were slowly, yet so surely, closing in around her, suffocating her. She lost track of time, and closed her curtains so that night and day was not distinct. It didn't matter to her what time it was; nothing else mattered right now.

Every time she looked around her room she instantly saw something that reminded her of John. And with each memory that flooded into her mind, a new multitude of fresh tears flowed relentlessly down her cheeks.

She had curled into a tight ball in the corner of her room, wrapping her arms around her legs and clenching her knees firmly against her chest as she continued to sob.

So this was what it felt like to lose someone you love. A child. A being you have unconditional feelings for.

Her sobs and soft cries, pleading into the darkness hopelessly begging for her son, were the only sounds that pierced that eerie, still silence, until there was a knock on her door.

"Ames," it was her father. Both of her parents had made several attempts to talk to her, but Amy always turned them away, facing the wall and trying to cry as silent as possible. She couldn't face her family right now, but this time was different; George bore a unique and new concerned tone in his voice.

"Amy," he repeated, knocking gently upon the door once more. "Something happened."

The concerned father sighed, closing his eyes as he reached out to tap his knuckles on the wood again, but the door was suddenly pulled open, flooding the dark room with light from the hallway.

"What is it?" Amy said, trying to wipe the wet tears from her red cheeks.

George looked down upon his eldest child and sighed, scrunching his face. She looked so weak and purposeless.

"Amy," he spoke softly, reaching out to rest his hand upon her shoulder. "He's gone. Ricky's gone."

Amy's mouthed opened slightly, and she felt all of her limbs grow numb. Everything in her mind suddenly seemed to freeze.

So this was what it felt like to lose someone you love.


	7. Chaos

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter VI: "Chaos"_

"He's gone. Ricky's gone."

The words had been like daggers to her heart, and Amy found herself growing cold, as if all life seemed to fade away from existence. She felt her arms and legs grow numb, and could only scoff as she tried her hardest to speak, yet could barely grasp the words.

"Wh-what do you m-mean? What do you mean R-Ricky's...gone." Amy questioned her father, she seemed out of breath and in disbelief.

"I mean that Leo called me, and Ricky's foster parents called him, and told me that Ricky disappeared. He ran away again, and nobody knows where he's going."

Amy felt her heart sink; so he had disappeared on his own accord. She gasped subtly as the thought struck her mind: What if he had abandoned her? She didn't know if she could-no. No, she knew she couldn't continue without him. After all, HE was the father of their son; their son who, as of right now, was still missing. Amy had continually tried to not fear the worst, and her only escape from this living nightmare was trying ever so hard to recollect on the time they spent together with John on their trip...

But now he was...gone.

Amy scrunched his eyes as she inhaled sharply, praying to be taken back to those memories once again-but they didn't come. Instead, she felt hot tears begin to wet the corner of her eyes, threatening to slide down her cheeks, and so she quickly reopened them, still trying to contain herself.

"Well...just...what do you mean...," she trailed off, struggling to even speak in her current shocked state. "What?"

George opened his mouth, but no words were spoken, his lips didn't even move. He simply reached out and rested his hand on Amy's shoulder, pulling her gently through the doorway and into a soft embrace.

"I don't know, Ames" he said, feeling his daughter begin to weep silently against his shoulder.

* * *

"Did you hear?" Adrian said, almost literally bursting through the door as Ben opened it, swiftly side stepping out her way.

"No, what's going on? Did something happen?" Ben replied with a confused look on his face.

"Ricky's gone," she replied, turning her head towards him. "He disappeared again-without a reason or letting anyone know...He's just gone."

"Why would he leave? I mean, where would he go? Back to see his mother...Are you sure Adrian?" He didn't wait for her response. "Who told you this?"

"My parents. Apparently they found out from Amy's parents, who in turn found out from your dad."

"My dad knew?" Ben leaned back against the wall and folded his arms. "Why wouldn't he tell me? I mean...this is a hellaish time for everybody...why wouldn't he tell me?"

Adrian lingered in silence for a moment, drifting her attention around Ben's room. "Because," she said, turning back towards him. "Because he thought you'd try to comfort Amy."

Ben seemed slightly appalled by what she had just said. "Well wouldn't you be there for a friend if something this bad had happened to you?" He scoffed.

"Yes but-"

"And now Ricky, John's father, just randomly takes off again. There's only so much a person can take, Adrian. We-I have to talk to her." He stood straight up, as if preparing to leave the room in a hurry.

"Ben, wait." Adrian reached out and grabbed his hand. "I'm sure Amy will be okay. She has friends and family there to comfort her...and the police are out looking for John, doing the best they can." She tried to calm him. "But telling you that wasn't the main reason I came over here..."

"What is it, then?" Ben said quite plainly.

"Everything here...it's so stressful. I know you don't want to be around it as much as me; we have our own issues. I don't know what you'll say, but I know that Amy and Ricky went on that trip a few weeks ago, and it seemed to be going great until..." She trailed off into silence. "But...maybe we could do the same thing. I'd like to get to know you better, Ben."

Ben stared down at her, pondering the offer she had just presented him with.

"I don't know - if that's the best idea. No. No it's not the best idea."

"Ben, having sex with you wasn't the best idea: it got me pregnant. But now we're learning to love this baby, and I think if we got away we could learn to...like each other."

"I don't know where we'd stay or what we'd do or-"

"We'll figure it out. We're in for a lifetime of challenges with this child; we can do this...If you want."

Ben sighed: she seemed pretty persistent, and maybe it was good to get away from all of the stress coupling with John's abduction.

"My dad has been saying that I should really be there for you, and I do know that he is right. Maybe we do need to get away..." His voice was calm and soothing.

Adrian smiled slightly, and pulled his hand which she still held to her stomach and pressed his palm to her.

"It'll be just me, you, and the baby."

* * *

"How's Amy?" Ashley said as she re entered her house, almost cautiously stepping through the doorway and into the kitchen where her parents sat.

"She's still up there," Anne replied.

"Yeah, I tried talking to her a little bit ago," George chimed in, sipping his coffee. "But I think she just wants to be alone, even though part of me thinks we should try to comfort her. I don't want to see my little girl in pain."

"Yes well, I don't like the fact that she's up there all alone." Anne frowned slightly as she sat across from her ex husband. "What exactly did she tell you when you went up there?"

"Nothing," George replied, taking another sip. "She's just so depressed, crying-couldn't hardly get a word out. I'm worried about her, Anne. And now with Ricky gone..." He trailed off, a flickering flame of anger sparked in him. "I can't believe he just up and left her like that. Especially now."

"What do you mean Ricky's gone?" Ashley questioned.

"You mean he didn't tell you?" Anne seemed surprised.

"Yeah I thought you two were...you know." A hint of menacing sarcasm in George's voice, as he once again took a sip of his coffee.

"No," Ashley shot back plainly, "I just didn't know. It doesn't matter to me; all in all I'm just really worried about John right now. And I wish there would be something done about it."

"They're doing the best they can, Ashley. The police are working hard on finding John. Now, I know you're upset just like the rest of us."

Ashley's eyes dropped to the floor: she knew her mother was right. Truthfully, she just missed...everyone.

* * *

"I'm always here for you, Amy. You're never going to be alone."

_ A strange, calming aura seemed to surround the pair as they continuously rocked gently back and forth. Ricky closed his eyes and sensed that strange feeling swell up inside of him again, as did Amy._

_ For the first time they were able to recognize it._

_ They both opened their eyes and Ricky smiled wide, looking down at Amy; she had never looked more beautiful. In this moment, he knew what he had to be for her, and she knew what she had to be for him. He reached up with his hand and slowly brushed her bangs from her face, keeping his palm rested against her cheek as Ricky leaned in slowly until the small gap between them had been sealed with a soft kiss._

_ Amy felt a sensational rush surge through her body as she wrapped her arms around Ricky's neck, feeling his tenders lips press gently against hers. _

_ And then..._pain.

Amy woke with a start, inhaling deeply as she sat up in bed but could see nothing. The entire room was dark, and she became frightened, her heart beat increasing as she looked about the room, searching for any light to penetrate the darkness. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her chest, and a sort of pressure that instantly took her breathe away. The muscles of her stomach clenched and cramped as she hunched over and fell to the floor with a terrified scream.

She tried her hardest to call for somebody, but her very voice seemed stolen away, replaced only with screams of agony as a burning fire now flourished within her chest. Amy was using every ounce of energy she could muster to inhale any amount of air possible, but her head only became fuzzy from the lack of oxygen she was taking in. Her heart was pounding ferociously against her sternum, shaking her very body, and once again she called out in pain, then:

Blackness.

...

...

The limp, cold body of a young girl was hoisted into the back of a vehicle, and sirens were wailing out mercilessly.

Her head was swirling, and she couldn't tell if she was alive or dead; everything was distorted and fuzzy. A profound blur seemed to take hold of the earth.

"Amy!" She heard someone call out. "It's gonna be alright."

It's gonna be alright.

...

...

"How you doin' kiddo?" She could barely make out the figure of her father, a distressed look on his face, looking down on her. The sirens continued to sound in the back of her mind, and she felt her surroundings moving at an incredibly pace.

...

...

"We're almost there, Amy!" His voice rang out again through the maelstrom of confusion, darkness, and fuzziness. "Almost there," he grabbed her hand.

...

...

The scene at the hospital that night was very grim, or even more than usual, as everything seemed to be lifeless these days. It had begun to rain shortly before they arrived, and now the blackness of night had taken over.

A young man walked softly down the bright hallway, glancing in the rooms as he passed. He was obviously searching for something, or someone. His hair was matted down over his forehead, wet from the rain. His entire clothed body was soaked, yet he trudged on.

A sudden voice caught his attention, and he stopped short in his place to listen.

"She's stable," a male doctor said from a certain room, his back turned to the young man. "But...we don't know what the problem is. At first, she showed signs of a heart arrhythmia, and her EKG was through the roof. But now that she seems to be in a calm state...medically she's healthy. But she seems to be drifting away."

"If she's perfectly healthy how is that possible?" The words of another reached the young man's ears as he continually listened, albeit with more attention now, to the conversation happening in the room.

"We're not sure. She is losing her will to live. We're doing everything we can, and we will continue to. But there is only so much medically we can do." He tried to reassure, but it seemed pointless.

The doctor looked down upon Amy who lay calm, yet unmoved in the bed. Right where she was not two days ago.

"How horrible it must be to try to withstand everything that has happened to her. I can't imagine it, but we will continue to do what we can. It is now when you must comfort her."

The doctor turned and left the room, walking right by the young man as he now drew closer to the room, peering in as best he could through the glass windows.

"She's a strong girl, Anne." George pulled his ex wife into a strong embrace, comforting her as she silently weeped against his shoulder. "I know Ames can pull through this."

* * *

Ricky pressed his palm to the glass, as if reaching out in some hopeful sense to something, anything. Why was this all happening to them? Dating back to that one night at band camp, and up until now. Everything that they had been through, everything that Amy had to go through-was it all because of him? If not for that one night...this would've never happened.

Why was this horrible tragedy upon them? Especially after the week they shared growing closer, Ricky couldn't help but feel as though the loss of their son would now tear them apart.

"Ricky," his concentration was broke by Anne's soft voice, and he turned his head towards her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

George reached out and placed his hand upon Ricky's shoulder. "Go see her."

Ricky nodded and slipped past them, making his way slowly into the room. To him, it was ever so familiar, and he hated being back in such a dreaded place. But there were more important things to worry about now.

He walked through the darkness, and sat down gracefully by her bed. Ricky looked upon her, starting from her blanket-covered toes, scanning up to her face.

For being in so much pain, with all of the stress she was plagued with, Ricky smiled at her beauty. She looked at peace, and in a small sense that replenished hope in him. He reached out and grasped her hand, taking it tight in his.

"I don't know if you can hear me, Amy," Ricky said quietly. "I'm sorry. For everything." He paused, exhaling slightly. "I just wanted you to know that I'm for you right now. And if you ever need me, no matter what, I'm never far away. I never thought that I could truly settle on one girl, but things change...I'm sorry for everything that has happened because of me, and I promise you that I won't fail you again." He reached up and gently caressed her cheek with his hand. "I'm going to get our son back." A single tear cascaded down his cheek.

"I'm leaving," Ricky informed as he exited the room.

"You can't," Anne said. "You can't leave us here."

"I'm doing what I must," he replied. "I have to find John." He glanced back in at Amy. "I have to do this."

Anne began to silently cry once again, pulling the young father into her arms for a secure embrace. "You come back, promise me. You have to."

George nodded solemnly, extending his hand to Ricky, who outstretched his own, and grasped it firmly.

"I trusted you maintaining the safety of my daughter when you went on that trip, and you did. Bring us back our grandson," he said in a solid, strong voice.

Ricky nodded, turned, and hurriedly left the hospital, going out into the night in search of his son.

Anne and George watched him turn the corner and eventually out of their sight. George reached down and grasped her hand, giving her a look as if to say, "Everything is going to be alright."

Their moment of silence was interrupted by the sudden ringing of George's phone.

He reached into his pocket, flipped it open and held it to his ear. "Hello?"

"George? It's Leo. Something terrible has happened." His voice was filled with anxiety and hurt.

"What's wrong, Leo?" George replied, drawing a concerned look from Anne.

"It's-It's Ricky's parents. His foster parents. They were in a car accident tonight."

"My God," George exclaimed. "Are they okay?"

The voice on the other end was silent momentarily.

"They didn't make it, George."


	8. Mourning

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter VII: "Mourning"_

"What's wrong, Leo?" George replied, drawing a concerned look from Anne.

"It's-It's Ricky's parents. His foster parents. They were in a car accident tonight."

"My God," George exclaimed. "Are they okay?"

The voice on the other end was silent momentarily.

"They didn't make it, George."

* * *

It had been several days since the news of Ricky's foster parents' death reached George Juergens ears. And not long after that, as to be expected, the community learned of the accident as well, whether it be by local media coverage or word of mouth.

After an initial state of shock, those closest to the family began arranging their funerals and attempted to get whatever legal matters pushed aside for the time being as a stage of mourning settled upon the people.

"I still can't believe this has happened; it's terrible." Anne said, staring through the glass panes into the dark, secluded room.

George, standing beside her with his arms crossed, took a deep breathe in. "I still can't go ahold of Ricky...No one can. The kid won't answer his phone, texts...anything." He shook his head, frowning.

A moment of silence fell between the two. They were still at odds about their relationship issues, but had to be strong together as parents in this time that called for it. A middle-aged man wearing a white lab coat suddenly joined the two parents, walking up beside George.

"How is she doctor?"

"She's still in a 'coma' of sorts; we're not really sure. But she's stable, and whenever she wakes up she should be able to go home within the next few days." He replied through a small smile after startling George.

"So this isn't anything potentially fatal, right?" Anne pressed again, concerned for her daughter's safety.

"No," came the doctor's response once again. "She's exhausted, and the stress has taken its toll on her. She's in sort of a medicated sleep. Amy will be fine," he once again reassured.

"Thank you," the red-headed mother smiled back, relieved to know that nothing fatal would come of her daughter. Yet, she found herself frowning, her joyful spirit slightly tainted: Not all was well, and it would certainly turn hellish when both Ricky and Amy found out.

* * *

The day had been long and uneventful for Adrian. She found herself trying to count the dotted lines on the road or the mile marking signs as they sped by, and as much as she tried to entertain herself, time seemed to slow to a sloth-like pace.

Even though it felt like forever, and she had already lost track of how many hours it accurately had been, Adrian guessed that her and Ben had been traveling since around eight o'clock that morning. So around seven hours, maybe? She had drifted off to sleep a few times, but never for more than a few minutes. Ben was stone silent as well, not having much to say I suppose. And she couldn't blame him; things had been a bit off between the two of them as of late.

The sun had finally begun to set now, its massive orange sphere dropping slowly down below the horizon. As the blinding rays of light receded from view, Adrian brushed a lock of hair from her face and sat up. "Where are we, Ben?" She asked in a lethargic tone.

Adrian perked slightly when only silence responded her.

"We uh-," Ben said finally, glancing around for a sign. "We're about an hour away. I had to stop and get gas and ask for directions, so we sort of fell behind."

Adrian's vision started to clear, the impending nighttime taking focus. "That's fine with me," she said. "I like driving in the dark better."

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of Ben's cellphone that lay in his lap. With one hand still on the wheel, he picked it up and pressed a button, before sitting it back down.

Adrian looked slightly confused, and let out a soft scoff. "Uhm, you're not going to answer that?"

Ben's face remained as stone, but there was a gentle tone in his voice. "No. We're doing this to get away and figure things out. About what we're going do and what's best for us and that baby. I don't want anybody interfering with that."

"What _are _we going to do, Ben?"

He turned towards her: "I don't know, yet."

* * *

"We have gathered here this day in sadness, grief, and finding ourselves asking 'why?' We may always be asking that question, and in turn it may never be answered. But perhaps it isn't meant to be. Instead of focusing on the 'why', we should celebrate the lives these two people led. For that is now what matters most. Margaret and Shakur were both extraordinary people with giant hearts. They looked out into the darkness when many would flee from it. They gave people security and hope.

In the darkness and depression that many people sit in, when they feel they have no purpose or motivation, they were spark that could ignite you. They not only encouraged, but they believed in the people they were helping. And it is people like them that make our destructive world a little bit brighter.

We have lost a mother and father, grandparents, friends. But death is just another path of life, one that we all must take. We are hear to mourn their untimely departure, but we can take heart in knowing that they have influenced us all in whichever role they played in our lives, and that is saying something.

And so I say to you now, and this applies to everyone. Don't let your sadness and feeling of hopelessness tear you down. Don't let your mind linger continuously on the question 'why'. But instead remember Margaret and Shakur for what they did during their time with us. Keep close your memories, and don't let anyone make you stray. What could've been doesn't matter anymore, it is who they were that we should always hold in our hearts. For in those memories, and what they did, they will always live on through us. Margaret and Shakur.

Rest in Peace."


	9. Break

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter VIII: "Break"_

_A/N: If you wish to check out my one-shot Twilight story "Wolf" you can do so by visiting my Author's page =]. Thank you for all of your feedback; it really gives me inspiration!_

As the solemn bells began to toll, people dressed in black exited the church, most of their faces downcast. Their tears were hidden by the rain as it cascaded down from overhead. The sun had retreated for now, and the titans of thunder and lightning took control of the heavens. The weather, it seemed, fit the moods of all those who had just paid their respects to Ricky's foster parents.

Friends, family, adopted children, co-workers. These are the people who felt sadness in their hearts this day; the weight of their grief bearing down on them. Some people they had known for years, and some were simply those who had been helped by Margaret and Shakur.

As the pelting rain continued to fall, many people raced to their cars, while some stayed to line the church steps, some with umbrellas and some without, waiting for the caskets to be carried out.

George, dressed in black pants and a black jacket, slipped through the volumes of people with his ex-wife and youngest daughter behind him.

"That was a very moving service," Anne said as the three of them were situating themselves in their vehicle.

"Yes, it was very nice." Ashley responded, attempting to make herself more comfortable now that her clothes were soaked. For her, she didn't really know how to respond to all that was happening. She had grown strong after Amy had become pregnant with John, but she was confused on how to deal with death.

"It's kind of hard to believe," George said as he put the key in the ignition. "I'm sure a lot of people are still in shock; they can't believe this happened."

Anne looked out her passenger side window, thousands of water droplets darting across it. She saw some of Ricky's adopted family, and then an older African American gentleman who appeared contained yet in agony, help carrying Margaret's casket.

The red-headed mother looked down into her lap, feeling a sting of white hot pain slice through her.

"No parent should have to bury their child," she said.

The atmosphere around them grew silent, the only noise was the sound of the engine as it roared to life. George reached over and took Anne's hand in his, grasping it tightly.

* * *

Alone in his dark office, a man sat in silence. The earth-quivering thunder broke the unsteady silence that infected the room; the lightning flashing through the giant glass windows.

Alone in his dark office, Leo Boykewich sat in concern and sadness. He had not known Margaret and Shakur, yet attended the funeral. In many ways he felt sorry for those who did, seeing their hurt faces as they paid their last respects. And yet, with all of the mourning still continuing on here, Leo worried for his son, and Adrian.

He turned his face and looked out the window, light flashing across his face. He knew that it was best that Ben spend time with Adrian. After all, they were expecting a baby, and so he was confident this trip would benefit them.

Yes, he wondered...questioning the future and how things might unfold. He thought about how their lives would change. Ben had been through this before, in a way, with Amy. But now this was all on him, and her. He scrunched his eyes shut, massaging his temple softly with his fingers. Together, Ben and Adrian would have to decide what was best for them.

* * *

"Welcome home, Amy." Anne smiled as her eldest daughter entered in through the front door of their home. She pulled her into a loving embrace. "We missed you." She smiled again.

By now, days had past since the funerals of Ricky's foster parents. The weather had let up, the rain giving way for the powerful rays of gorgeous sunlight as is normal in California. With the windows open, a gentle, cool breeze blew through the house, illuminating their noses with a sweet aroma, and the birds could be heard happily chirping outside. Yet still with grief in their hearts, everybody was getting back to normal, so to speak.

"I'm glad to be back, mom." Amy said, hugging her mother back. Her voice was still rather weak, and she felt so. But she tried to be strong and speak solidly. "Where's Ricky?"

Anne stiffened slightly with her arms still wrapped around her daughter. She let go and stepped back, placing her hands on Amy's arms, as if to stable her.

"Ricky left, Amy." Her voice approached with caution. "He went out to look for John on his own."

Amy's smile quickly faded. "Wh-what do you mean?" She stumbled over her words, shaking her head and scoffing, trying to quickly sort out this news. "What do you mean he left? To look for John? Why in the hell would he just leave to do that?" Her voice grew louder, causing a stir from Amy and George who sat in the kitchen.

"What's going on out here?" George darted into the hallway.

Before anybody could respond, a loud knock was heard on the door behind Amy. In unison, they all glared at the site of the sound.

"Who is it?" Anne said.

"California State P.D. ma'am, open up."

Amy's eyes grew wide and she stepped back behind her father as Anne walked forward, and with a swift flick of her wrist, unlocked and opened the door.

Two men dressed in black suits stood before her. One, who was standing in front, was rather tall, with chiseled features and appeared to be middle-aged. The other who stood behind him and to his left, was a shorter and stouter man with a mustache. Based upon the strong voice that had come through the door, the man in the front was the one who had spoken.

"You Mrs. Juergens?" The taller man said. George cleared his throat.

"Yes," she said.

"My name is Steven Black. I'm the unofficial lead investigator in the search for your grandson, John Juergen's. May we come inside."

"Yes," she said again, this time with an exasperated breathe.

Anne moved to the side and let the two gentlemen enter. They moved into the hallway and the family backed up slightly, now that Ashley had joined them. Anne retreated to George's side once again.

"What's going on?" Ashley said with a puzzled look on her face as she stared at the two officers.

"Very nice home you have here," Black said.

"What about our grandson?" George's tone was sharp and to the point.

Black opened his mouth to speak, but the frightened eye of a young woman cowering behind George's shoulder caught his eye.

"Are you Amy? You're the mother."

"Yes," she responded, coming around from behind her dad.

"And..." He paused momentarily, looking about the house. "Where is the father?"

"He's...not here...at the moment."

"Hmm. Spectacular. Davis," he turned towards the shorter man. "Present the file."

The man now recognized as Davis stalled. "I'm sorry, sir, it seems I left them in the car."

"Well go and get it then." Black turned back towards the family and smiled. "We may have something to share. We think we've made a break in the case for your son, Amy." He smiled at her.

"What? Really?" Amy's face lit up in surprise as Ashley grasped her hand. George looked down at Anne, tightening his grip on hers.

"We have someone special helping us investigate. He's come all the way down from Seattle, but he's recently transmitted us some information."

At this time Davis returned, a manila folder in his hand.

"Thank you, Davis," Black said playfully nonchalant. "Apparently the man who we now believe took your son also stole our Seattle agents' credit card, and he's been using it wherever he goes."

"Hansel and Gretel," Davis piped up.

"Exactly," Black continued, nodding towards his partner. "A trail of bread crumbs. And a direct map to a location we believe your son may be."

* * *

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Ben smirked as he walked up beside Adrian, who was leaning on the railing of their balcony that overlooked the ocean. It was nearing sunset, and as the sun was fading, the water sparkled as diamonds. Peace reigned supreme this night; the only side being the white-topped waves rock against the beach.

"Yes, it is."

"What do you want out of this?" Adrian said quietly after a moment of silence.

Ben glanced over at her. "I don't know what you mean exactly."

"Why are we here, Ben?"

Ben paused, trying to process and relay an answer. "I don't know," he scoffed. "But maybe that's how its supposed to be." He looked out again over the ocean. "Maybe we'll find out."

Suddenly Ben's phone rang and he scrambled to retrieve it from his pocket.

"Who is it?" Adrian questioned.

"It's...Ricky?" They both looked at each other, confused.

"H-hello?" Ben pressed the phone to his ear.

"How are things?"

Ben scoffed, kind of amused that Ricky would call him while he was with Adrian to "see how things were".

"Uhm, fine...I guess. I'm sorry, though. I heard."

There was a brief silence on the other end. "Heard what?"

"Heard wha-What do you mean? Aren't you home? Don't you know."

"Apparently I don't," Ricky responded. But as Ben proceeded to inform Ricky, his explanation was cut short as Ricky's phone cracked and broke when he hurled it violently against the floor.

_A/N: Chapter IX will be entitled: "Noose". What happens now that Ricky has learned of his parents' death? Be sure to tune into an all new Secret Life tonight at 8/7c! _


	10. Noose

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter IX: "Noose"_

One step forward, two steps back.

It was 2:03 AM, and the stillness of night overtook the dark room. Whatever moonlight there could've been, it was masked by the mocking clouds overhead. Gone was all light and the spirits of life. Gone was tomorrow, gone was purpose and hope. Gone was John, and now...his parents were gone.

Alone in the dark, suffocating space, Ricky sat, lifeless. The very walls that surrounded him seem to slowly close in, and would soon overtake him. There were no windows, and no other source of...existence. An erie coldness emanated throughout the atmosphere, flicking against his skin. But Ricky didn't care. Right now, it didn't matter to him whether he was alive or dead.

Perhaps he was. Maybe this is what death felt like. He would look out into the blackness and see nothing, feel nothing, smell nothing. The very emotions of hopelessness glazed over his eyes and he dropped his head into his hands as his temples throbbed painfully.

Alone in the dark, suffocating space, Ricky leaned against the cold, concrete wall, thinking. His foster parents, the two people who were always there for him through everything, were now gone, and he wasn't even around to do anything about it, or attend their funerals. He felt chained, unable to move, and this sense of worthlessness made him beg for an eternal fate even more. It was like thousands of blades stabbed through his body, each one inflicting its own dose of poisonous pain. And there was so much that seemed to combust in his head, that Ricky became numb, and he prayed the pain would subside. But every time his thoughts lingered, which was quite often, the gaping wounds would be infected once again.

When he had lost his son...he tried his best to contain his pain and suffering in front of Amy and their family, but the longer he tried searching, the more discouraged he became. Whispers of his father haunted him, night and day. He had always been abused in his life, but he recalled the most recent memories. For those were the ones that hurt the worst. It's amazing how painful the words may be from someone who he despises the most.

In all reality, a huge part of him set out on this journey believing it was a long shot to find his son. But he had to get away; he couldn't face Amy after what happened. The words of his father plagued his mind. "She only cares for John, not you. She's just using you." The interesting thing about these hauntings was that they were never actually said, but they were spoken in Bob's voice.

Was Ricky's own mind fabricating thoughts and turning against him?

Once John was taken...he felt like his entire life, and everything he worked to discover with Amy on their vacation, was now lost. What he hoped for in his future was now stolen from him and there was nothing he could do about it.

Ricky threw his head back, banging it against the wall. He felt a trickle of blood run down his neck and sighed. The physical pain seemed an easy escape from the heart-clenching agony he felt inside.

There was little hope, in Ricky's mind, of ever finding John, and now that his parents were dead...

He felt a single, hot tear roll down his cheek. It was the first time he had cried since that night.

"He's got my son!" The words echoed in his head.

There was nothing for him now. There was no reason to stay alive. It felt as if he was slowly being suffocated, and soon it would all come to an abrupt end.

"There's nothing I can do now," Ricky whispered to himself.

* * *

For several more hours the young distressed father sat in silence. Finally, the sun began to rise, and light cracked through into the room from under the doorway. Ricky began to hear voices slipping through under the door, and knew that he had better leave before he was discovered.

For the past two weeks, Ricky Underwood has been searching for his son. And now that Bob had been definitely identified as the culprit, Ricky was being hunted by the police. With the direct tie between the two of them, the authorities feared for John and Ricky's safety because of what could happen should they come into direct contact. It is always necessary to pray for the best, but be prepared for the worst.

Ricky didn't know why his father would do something so severe as this. As the days went by, Ricky had pondered Bob's potential motive, as he tried to strategize his own plan. Ricky felt that he had to think like his father in order to find him. He believed wholeheartedly that Bob knew he was going to be eventually caught, so why would he abduct his son?

Ricky, dressed in dark blue rugged jeans and a black hoodie, gently grasped the handle of the door and twisted. He pulled until their was just enough space to slip out, and flipped the black hood over his head.

This past night, as it was with many nights before, Ricky had snuck into an abandoned building to take shelter. It wasn't necessarily comfortable, and definitely nothing like the hotel him and Amy stayed at, but it would have to do. He couldn't check into any hotels, and tried his hardest to not leave traces of his presence behind.

As it was this morning, Ricky stayed out well into the night, so when the time came to find a place to stay, his choices were very limited. As he walked casually away from the enclosed room, he turned and saw that it appeared to be a newly constructed supplies shack for a company that was not yet put into use. But no matter; he knew he had to keep moving on. He didn't know if by now he had broken any laws, but he was certain the police were searching for him.

As the sun began to rise above the eastern hills of California, Ricky found his way to a set of train tracks a little ways away from the building. They didn't appear to have been used in years; the ties were rotting and uneven, and various vegetation poked through the gravel. To the right of the tracks was a long line of tall, thick pine trees spanning down as far as the eye could see, and on the opposing side of that was a large pasture that also seemed unoccupied. Therefore, it seemed the perfect place to travel.

By day, Ricky kept a focused eye on the news and the coverage surrounding the case, but no lead had really hit home. His search kept him busy enough to distract him from the agonizing pain that festered in his heart.

But at night time, when all was cool and still, with only his thoughts to accompany him, Ricky had begun to crack.

He had now fully severed the relationships he shared with others back home. And the longer he stayed out, running blind in the darkness, the more he felt himself changing. Whatever drama that once existed back home didn't seem to matter anymore. Ricky began to lose a sense of feeling towards those he cared about. The situation between Ben and Adrian used to infuriate Ricky, but now he barely thought of it. His determination had turned to malicious vengeance, and he found himself feeling the strongest drive to keep pushing forward was indeed not searching for his son, but his father.

God, he hated that man.

Ricky had no vision of the future anymore; it seemed to disappear altogether and he bothered not to dwell on it. He couldn't even find himself living in the present, and the only thing that fueled him was the memories of his past. He had become numb, a emotionless individual who lacked reason and purpose. Ricky's mindset had changed, and he didn't know who he was or why he was this way, he only felt raw fury boil inside of him, threatening to explode.

His physical appearance had changed as well. Because he traveled moreso in night now than day, his skin was dyed a sickly mixture of white and gray, and bags fell under his tired eyes. Ricky's food supply was extremely limited, and because of that he had lost several pounds, sinking to an unhealthy and much skinnier figure.

The cuts that he sustained the night of the abduction had healed, but left noticeable scars. In a way, Ricky was thankful for them. They were now his only reminder that it was all real.

As another day had come and gone, again with no luck of finding John or Bob, Ricky settled into a small, secluded area near the tree line by the train tracks for the night. The fiery sun drooped below the horizon, and out sprang many bright stars that twinkled in the dark sky. Tonight was a good night, although Ricky's stomach pained for lack of nutrition, the moon was out, illuminating the world.

A light in the darkness.

Once again, sitting alone in the shrubbery, Ricky closed his eyes and his thoughts drifted to someone he now rarely thought of. It had only been weeks, but it felt like an eternity, since he last saw her. A part of him wondered how Amy was doing, and another missed the times they shared on their vacation...before it all came crashing down.

John was their one true link to each other...and if he was gone...These hosts of negative thoughts only ensured Ricky's path of inevitable self-destruction even more.

Just like with everyone else...anything else...Ricky couldn't find it in his heart to cry for the separation between him and Amy.

Ricky reached up and wiped his greasy, dirty hair from his face. "Hell," he said.

* * *

Again and again Amy found herself pacing back and forth in her room, sometimes pausing to simply stand there, before reassuming her back and forth motion. She had been up all through the night, unable to sleep with everything that was flying around in her mind. In all truthfulness, though, her full attention was only on one thing.

One man. Ricky.

"It's like a huge hole has been punched through my chest," she had told Ashley the night before.

With each passing day, her concern for the father of her only child increased greatly. Her calls and texts went unanswered, and every time she hinted at going out to look for him, her parents quickly shot down the idea.

"We just got you back," they would say. "The police are handling it, and they'll find Ricky and John. Just wait and see."

Amy, however, found things such as that hard to believe. She knew that as much danger as her SON was in, and how much anger and pain she was trying to contain, that Ricky, too, was also in agony. She didn't know the extent of his pain, but Amy knew that they would both rather be with each other as support than be ripped apart like this.

"I have to go," Amy whispered to herself.

"Mom, dad." Amy addressed as she descended the stairway. It was late into the night, but both of her parents were still up, sitting in the kitchen. After seeing them huddled together, Amy assumed a grave, private conversation.

"Amy, it's late. What're you doing up?" Anne turned her head towards her eldest child.

"We really, really have to talk," Amy replied.

"If this is about you going out to look for Ricky then you can just forget it, young lady," George shot. "We've told you before, you're safer here and I'm sure he's alright, as is John."

"We haven't heard from him in weeks." Amy's voice quickly escalated. "For all we know, he could be in trouble too."

"Amy...no," her mother denied once again.

"So...you would keep me from assuring the safety of my son and his father?" She tried to keep herself calm, but the pain was too great.

"Remember," George said, "remember what Black said. They think they know where he's at, but there's too many variables they have to consider at the moment. Bob isn't an unexperienced criminal."

"I'm a young woman and that is my son. I should be able to make my own decisions!"

"And you should respect our decisions while you live in our house. We are your parents Amy, and as much as we care for John and Ricky," George paused momentarily. "...You are not to leave."

Amy scoffed. "Parents..." She turned to walk back up the stairs. "Imagine the situation from my point of view. And right now Ricky's being a better father than you. At least he's doing some, and I should do the same." And with that she ascended the stairs, a defiant look on her face, although in her heart Amy was crumbling fast.

* * *

Ricky stood, elevated about two feet off the ground. He sighed as he looked up and pulled to make sure it was secure, but his hands couldn't stop trembling. He swallowed and felt it's coarse threads press against his skin: it was now or never.

Ricky's pain had grown too great, and even in the daylight...all he saw was darkness. The agony was the only way he knew that it was real, but even that didn't satisfy him anymore. He had lost all hope in life. He had fallen too hard to get back up.

One step forward, two steps back. An interesting phrase, Ricky thought. For all that had happened in his life, it came down to this. All the memories, good and bad, seemed faint and dull, disappearing into the numbing, drugged effect that overtook his mind.

A short drop and a sudden stop. That was all it would take. So fragile, so worthless. Ricky pulled tight and felt it constrict around him, before the log he was standing on tipped over...

_A/N: Chapter X will be entitled, "Thunder"._


	11. Thunder

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter X: "Thunder"_

Ricky's pain had grown too great, and even in the daylight...all he saw was darkness. The agony was the only way he knew that it was real, but even that didn't satisfy him anymore. He had lost all hope in life. He had fallen too hard to get back up.

One step forward, two steps back. An interesting phrase, Ricky thought. For all that had happened in his life, it came down to this. All the memories, good and bad, seemed faint and dull, disappearing into the numbing, drugged effect that overtook his mind.

A short drop and a sudden stop. That was all it would take. So fragile, so worthless. Ricky pulled tight and felt it constrict around him, before the log he was standing on tipped over...

There was a sudden flash of light and a crack of loud thunder that shook the earth. Ricky fell to the ground and collapsed, attempting to shield his eyes from the blinding light.

"Ricky," came the woman's soft voice. Even in this sudden state of disorientating chaos, her whisper was as loud as the thunder. "Ricky," she said again, and he groaned, attempting to cover his ears as well as her words echoed inside of him.

And then, as soon as it had come, the bright, white light seemed to be sucked from the atmosphere, disappearing into nothingness with a subtle pop.

"Ricky."

Still fallen and confused, Ricky tried to regain focus in his eyes and looked up towards the voice.

"Mom?" He said. Nora simply stared down at him with a disappointed look on her voice. "Mom?" He repeated.

"What are you doing, kid?"

Ricky stared back up at her, slightly dumbfounded and not knowing what to say. He hadn't spoken to a real person in weeks, and this situation was especially confusing.

Ricky attempted to stand, staggering slightly before regaining his balance. He erected himself peered around at his surroundings. He wasn't in the trees by the train tracks anymore, and it wasn't night. But it wasn't day. In fact, Ricky couldn't recognize where he was at all. The shell of what he used to be, Ricky winced and attempted to massage his temples as they throbbed painfully. What the hell was going on here?

"Nora, what the hell is going on here?"

"Nice to see you too," she retorted sarcastically. She scanned him up and down, seeing the remnants of the son she remembered. "What are you doing, Rick?" She asked again.

"I, uh-," he subconciously reached up and touched his neck, but there was no rope. However, in place of it, he felt a deep scar run across his neck."

His biological mother scoffed, taking notice to Ricky's action. "You would kill yourself for this?" She drew Ricky's gaze; his eyes filled with fear and yet still anger.

"You don't understand," he replied in a deep, raspy voice. As soon as he had tried to speak clearly and profoundly, the scar on his neck burned with a fury, causing him to cough.

"What an ass-backwards and stupid thing to even contemplate, Rick." Nora scoffed again.

"Again, you don't understand. I lost my son - I lost my life." He had to literally force the coarse words from his mouth.

"How could you be so selfish and close minded?" Nora stood face to face with her son now, her head cocked to the side as she questioned him.

Ricky didn't respond, but only tried to clear his throat and ease the burning pain.

"You know, I once lost my son. And yeah I could've been a better mother, but it wasn't my fault entirely. That man is a monster; he abused me the same as he did you. I never wanted my child to grow up like either of us, but as I see it now my choices were very limited." Ricky's head slightly dropped, yet he remained silent still. "And now...with your son missing...I know how you feel, kid. It sucks. But to kill yourself because of it is just stupid. You're giving up. And one thing I never did is give up, and we turned out alright, save him.

"Your father," Ricky cringed slightly, "became very corrupted throughout his life. And he always thought that he'd be able to change his ways whenever he wanted. But as he put off doing so, he became more of a...bad person."

Ricky didn't like hearing Bob referred to as his "father", but what his mother was saying...he had never been exposed to this before.

"He used to be a good man, Rick. At the beginning. But he gave up. And that's what started it all. He gave up on life."

Ricky's heart stopped abruptly in his chest, and he felt his stomach sink.

He had given up.

"Whatever good there was in your father is now gone. There's no hope in him, and I know you want nothing to do with him, kid." Nora smiled sympathetically, reaching out and placing her hand on Ricky's shoulder. "But there's still hope for John."

"Why - what are you doing this for?" Ricky felt a sliver of skepticism, still confused about this dream state.

Nora smirked. "I'm being a mom, just like you need to be a dad."

Ricky shook his head, standing defiantly before him. "What am I supposed to do?" His words were filled with despair.

"Search your heart. There's someone who needs you now, and together you'll find your son."

* * *

_I can hear the thunder clashing outside and the rain as it pelts continuously against the house. I've never been one for stormy nights, but tonight it doesn't matter to me. In all reality, it somewhat soothes me. The weather matches my mood - my feelings. All the emotions inside of me; I'm trying to control them, but I can't. Not now. _

_I've been in this room, this prison, for hours, only it seems like days. It's cold and dark, but again I don't mind. My surroundings perfectly reflect how I feel - and I feel lost and unable to help. It's such a sickly feeling, knowing that they two most important guys in my life are somewhere out there, braving the storm on their own, and not being able to doing anything about it._

_I haven't really seen my parents in the past few days, then again I've rarely left the room. My anger for them is too great, and I'm trying to control myself. The best way, in my opinion, to do so is to just avoid them, but it is getting lonely in here; too much time to think within myself. My thoughts betray me. The only person I've really had any contact with is Ashley, and isn't she just a breathe of fresh air. I'm trying to get along with her, for it would be nice not to have everyone in this house oppose me. She says I don't look very good, and I haven't really seen myself in light lately, but I have faith that she's right._

_It's so very inexplainable to try to comprehend how I feel. I've spent seemingly countless hours sitting by the window, staring out blankly, hoping that I'll see Ricky's car drive up, with our son in the back seat, smiling._

_I wonder if he knows what's going on, but I hope he doesn't. I'm one hundred percent confident that I'll see my son again...I think. Every time I try to psych myself up and feel a surge of determination, my thoughts betray me, as I said, and I sink back into depression. I long in my heart to see them again. I want to be able to move on from this, but the nightmares don't stop. _

_I haven't slept soundly in weeks, and everytime I dream, it's always the same one. I can't take much more of this._

_

* * *

_

**I still can't explain or reason what happened this morning. I saw my mother, my real mother. Seeing her...it confused me, angered me, and made me miss Margaret. But strangely it also calmed me. I still don't know what to really make of it, or how it happened. **

**As night began to fall, so did the rain. I now find myself sitting under a make-shift shelter by some lake. I don't know where I am anymore; I've traveled too blindly for the past couple of weeks. As the hours tick by, I try to close my eyes and drift off to sleep, something I've been deprived of as of late, but the loud pelting of the droplets keeps me awake; at least I'm dry. Mostly.**

**I find myself purposelessly looking out over the lake and seeing the rain pelt down ferociously, causing millions of tiny spashes against the crystal water, and recollecting over the past. I remember seeing her for the first time, before anything had started, and thinking how beautiful she was. She was sitting at a table all by herself, and she looked innocent and nice. And then I find myself asking why? Why did I do what I did? I feel so guilty and shameful for what happened that night. I never expected or wanted to have a baby, or hurt Amy, but what happened happened. And that's in the past, and I can't change it, but I can control my future.**

**What had started out as a disaster for the both of us actually turned into something that, once again, neither of us really expected. When Adrian and Ben had sex...I fell apart inside, and I couldn't believe it. I truly loved her, and by the time her pregnancy became known I suppose my feelings had dwindled slightly, and the pain was less than I expected. But it's...it's funny how things that start out bad sometimes turn out quite well. When Amy and myself had decided to leave and go out on our own in an attempt to better our united parenting towards John, I really just wanted to get away from the drama exploding back home, but I never expected for what happened.**

**I'm guessing it's about two a.m., and the wind has picked up, whipping thru my wall-less shelter, and so I've huddled back against a tall, thick oak tree, wrapped in my hoodie. The splashes on the water reminded me over the many times we looked out and saw the ocean, and how it sparkled like billions of diamonds. I find myself laughing slightly to myself, remembering how John pointed out across the great blue sea and giggled.**

**"Yeah, John," I had said, "ocean."**

**It was the first time I had laughed, let alone smiled, in quite awhile.**

**

* * *

**

_I never expected to get pregnant, yet then again I had never given much thought to my life in the future. But I suppose this wasn't how I would've pictured it went. Though, in retrospect, I had no regrets. I love my son, John, and there's nothing in the world I wouldn't do for him. _

_It's almost two thirty, going by my alarm clock to the right of my bed, and the storm continues to rage outside. About half an hour ago Robbie began to cry, but I heard my dad try to quietly race down the hallway to tend to him. I find myself in a familiar place once again, sitting near the window, gazing out into darkness. _

_For some odd reason, the night reminds me of the first night when we got to the hotel. When Ricky woke me up, and told me we were there, a sense of relief flushed thru my body. I felt as if we were finally taking the first step towards relaxation; life back home had been so stressful in the previous weeks._

_In my mind, I expected only to try to get along with Ricky and simply take some time away and be with my son, and at the start I felt discouraged; things hadn't turned out ideally in the beginning. But as the days began to pass by, a starting recognizing that strange feeling I had always felt around Ricky, especially when he looked at me._

_He didn't answer, so I opened the door and was surprised at what I saw. He was standing there shirtless, and I felt myself blush. My eyes traveled up his toned torso and to his smirking face, and I knew he recognized my shock. That ever growing feeling had erupted inside of me then, and I felt my body grow warm._

_And that night we talked on the beach...It was such an intimate and real conversation; we had never had this closeness between us. As the sun set, we watched our son play in the sand, and he told me about his past and the talk he had had with Kyle, and what he had come to realize from it. After I originally became pregnant, I knew the kind of person Ricky was, but now I knew he had changed, and he would continue to better his life. I now had no doubt that he was the best man to be a father that I could imagine._

_

* * *

_

**When we set out on our trip, I never expected to develop feelings for Amy. And in a way, I hadn't. That feeling that I would feel around her, that strange pressure in the pit of my stomach, had finally evolved into something I could define. The way I felt about her had been there for a long time, and neither of us saw it until we really got to know each other. **

**That night at the dance...all that we had hoped and wished for in the trip had been exceeded. It was the first time I had felt this close to a young woman in the way that I felt around Amy. She had looked so beautiful, and I had tried to clean myself up, although I was nervous. In the midst of the glowing orange, setting sun I held her close to me...**

_He held me close, wrapping his strong arms around me and pulling me tightly to his chest. I had closed my eyes and felt secure, knowing that nothing bad would happen as long as he was there. That unknown feeling then suddenly exploded inside both of us, and I looked into his eyes as he smiled down at me..._

**She had looked so beautiful and sweet, causing me to smile down at her, and in turn she beamed back up at me. It was in this moment when it felt so true and so right, I lifted my hand up gently and brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear, resting my palm against his warm, rosy cheek.**

_I melted into his hand and felt it tingle against my skin. This moment we knew what we had to be for each other, and for our son. He leaned in slowly and my heart stopped._

**I felt her tense up slightly, but as I slowly pressed my lips against hers, she melted against me. Her lips were soft and gentle, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, and I, in turn, wrapped mine around her waist, pulling her close to me. **

**The thunder cracked loudly again, and the rain seemed to drench the earth more fierce than ever. The cloudy skies flashed with white-hot bolts of lightning, but I couldn't see. My eyes were closed, slowly drifting off to sleep, knowing now what I had to do, and who I had to do it with.**

_The loud crack of thunder jolted me out of my trance and I shook slightly, startled at the noise. My depression and sadness were masked for the moment, replaced with joy and determination. I knew that my son was out there somewhere, as was Ricky, and I wasn't going to sit here in darkness any longer._

_I jumped from my seat, and attempted to be as quiet as possible as I hurriedly scurried across my room, grabbing a duffle bag from my closest and stuffing clothes of various accessories inside: everything that I would need for a few days. I was fortunate to have my bag still semi-packed from our vacation, but this only fueled my determination more._

_I had tried to contact Ricky over the past few days, but he hadn't answered, instead it had gone straight to voice-mail. So either his phone had died or he had shut it off. I didn't know how in this moment, but I knew I had to find him. _

_I would have to take my car, and thankfully it had a significant amount of gasoline. I would also leave a note, hoping and praying that my family wouldn't freak out and try to look for me, because I knew that police would no matter what. But I don't care, it doesn't matter to me. _

_"Gotta go," I whispered to myself, grabbing my bag and slowly, yet surely, slipping my way out of the door._

_As I got into my SUV and inserted the key, I stopped for a moment to take a breathe: all of this had happened very quickly. I turned the ignition and the car roared to life, and I suddenly noticed that the time was 3:02 AM._

_I took a deep breathe in and slowly exhaled, staring down at the steering wheel as I tapped it with my thumbs: this was it._

_Hope_ is kindled.


	12. Hope

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter XI: "Hope"_

_Mom & Dad,_

_It is probably evident to you by now that I'm not here anymore, and I know you can guess where I'm going, or what I'm searching for. I respect you as my parents and I know what you said about going out to look for Ricky, but in all honesty it doesn't matter to me anymore. _

_I'm sorry for everything that I've put you and Ashley through over the past two years, and I understand and accept that you're very angry with me - but this is something I have to do. Somewhere out there is my son and his father, and I have to be there for them. I have to try. _

_Please, don't come looking for me. _

_I love you._

"What should we do, George?" Anne questioned him, her voice full of concern.

Her ex-husband sat quietly in a chair, the note left by his eldest daughter lying in front of him on the kitchen table. For a moment, his brain seemed to literally freeze, and he simply stared at the words on the paper. They had awoken this morning only to find this note, and the initial shock was still wearing on him, but somehow he understood.

"We let her do what she feels she has to do," he finally replied solemnly.

"George?" Anne wasn't expecting this response.

"Imagine if somehow the situation was reversed - if Amy was out there alone and searching for John." He turned his head towards her, "what if Ricky wanted to go out and look for them? Would you be okay with that?"

But Anne was speechless, and so she simply stared at him with her mouth slightly agape. She had never really thought about that, and almost losing a daughter, or even the very thought of, was almost too painful to bear as a mother. And then she realized that this is how Amy must feel - a teenage mother secluded in her room while her child is somewhere out there. As much as she hated the idea, she knew that George was right, and it comforted her to know that she connected with her own daughter when it came to what it takes to be a mother.

"You know the police are going to freak about this," Anne said.

"I know. But perhaps we needn't tell them. Not yet," he added after drawing her gaze. "I'm simply saying that as much as we love Amy, maybe it would be best to let them handle this on their own."

"You really think Amy will be able to find Ricky?"

George nodded. "I believe that they can find John."

* * *

"That'll be one dollar and fifty cents, sir."

"Oh, I - uh," Ricky paused, fidgeting around his pocket for any change that he could find. "Just give me a s-second."

The young woman behind the counter smiled softly. "Don't worry about it - it's fifty cents, and you look like you could use some food."

Ricky had noticed that he was beginning to become very unhealthy looking. With his tattered, mud-stained clothes, tussled hair, and overall scruffy-looking appearance, he stuck out like a sore thumb in the middle of the McDonald's restaurant.

"Yeah," he forced a small laugh, "yeah I guess. Thank you," he added sincerely, handing the cashier the crumpled one dollar bill.

Ricky walked over to a small booth located in the corner of the restaurant and sat down. It was roughly eight thirty in the morning, and people who started their day early had begun to pour into the McDonald's. He considered himself fortunate that he stumbled upon this place, for he still didn't know where he was exactly. The storm had eventually ceased, and Ricky had made his way here in search of food and a phone.

It was not along after he had initially left to search for his son that Ricky discovered the authorities could track him through his cell phone, and so he had disposed of it. In hindsight, although it helped him to elude the police, if he were ever in need of an emergency phone call, he was playing it pretty close to the chest.

With the one dollar he had rummaged from his clothes earlier that morning, Ricky finally tasted food again. It seemed like an eternity since he had eaten, and as he quickly gobbled down the cheap breakfast his stomach groaned in pain, but he knew it would benefit him later.

After last night, Ricky knew that he had to get a hold of Amy - and he didn't know what exactly he would say to her, or how he would say it. Would he plainly ask if she wanted to risk her own safety to come out and save him and help look for John? No, he couldn't do that. He couldn't ask her to just join him and put herself in danger, that and because he didn't know where he was. Nevertheless, he knew he had to get a hold of her somehow.

"Excuse me," Ricky said as a young yet tired looking man carrying a mop trudged by his table.

The employee cleared his throat and turned, "Yes, sir?" He said lazily.

"I was just wondering," Ricky whispered cautiously, "where I might find a payphone or something?"

Confused as to why the ruffled teen was whispering, the employee shot him a quizzical glance. "It's out front by the newspaper machine; fifty cents to use it."

Ricky mentally slammed his face against the table: what the hell was up with fifty cents today?

"I actually don't have any money on me - would you be willing to spare me fifty?"

"Not really, I actually-"

"Please," Ricky interrupted. "I really need to use the phone."

The young man looked suspiciously at Ricky, surprised at his urgency to use a payphone at eight thirty in the morning. "Fine," he said blankly, reaching into his pocket and flipping two quarters into Ricky's hand.

"Thank you," Ricky nodded before ascending from his seat and made his way hurriedly towards the door.

"I won't tell, Mr. Underwood." The employee called after him.

Ricky stopped dead in his tracks. "What? What do you mean?"

The unidentified man walked slowly towards Ricky. "You look a little different now than the picture they have on the news."

"What are you trying to say?"

"No need to get defensive, I said I wasn't going to tell." Ricky turned and blasted a cold stare in his direction. "But I do hope you find your son."

Ricky felt a wave of relief flood over him as he nodded towards the understanding man before quickly retreating out the front door.

* * *

"Good morning, Ben."

"Morning, Adrian," he replied, sipping his coffee as she joined him on the balcony. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty good I guess," she said slowly, noticing that his eyes remained fixed out on the ocean. "No more morning sickness, and it's nice waking up to a beautiful sunrise."

Ben nodded, "Yes it is beautiful, but I think we should talk about what we're going to -" but he was abruptly cut off by himself as he turned towards Adrian, noticing that her stomach was showing. "Oh, I, uh - I'm sorry," he quickly withdrew his gaze.

"No, it's okay. I wanted you to see."

"It's just I've never seen...that before." Ben tried to keep his composure, although he was beginning to lose feeling in his knees.

Adrian laughed, "Amy never let you see her stomach?"

"No. I mean...after awhile you could see it, everybody could...obviously." He tried his hardest to look someplace else, searching for anything for his eyes to attend to rather than the soon-to-be mother of his child.

"But she never let you see her bare stomach?" Ben shook his head, causing Adrian to smirk. "I don't mind: it's your baby - ours - and you deserve to see it I think."

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that right now..."

"I hope someday you will be," and she reached out and grasped his hand, causing him to look at her in surprise, and placed it on her stomach.

* * *

Fifty cents: okay, he had to make it count, and Ricky didn't know how much time he had to make this call. He took a deep breathe and glanced around before slipping the two coins into the slot, hearing them clink inside the machine. Hurriedly he dialed the numbers to Amy's cell, continuing to look around suspiciously as he waited with anticipation.

It rang once, and then a second time, but Amy seemed more intent on driving than anything and paid little attention to her phone in the passenger seat. After a moment, however, when the ringing continued she reached over and picked it up, hoping that it wasn't one of her parents or friends - and it wasn't. When she saw the name on the screen, her heart nearly stopped.

Simultaneously, she flipped open her phone and pulled off abruptly to the side of the road, drawing a car or two to honk as they passed by.

"Ricky?" She almost yelled into the phone.

"Hi, Amy," and she was immediately filled with sadness; he sounded so weak.

"Ricky - Ricky?" She repeated his name, still in a small state of shock of excitement and fear. "Ricky is that you? How are you?"

He forced a small laugh, "I'm fine, Amy. I'm okay."

Amy forced herself to take deep breathes, trying to calm herself. "I haven't talked to you in forever. Ar-are you okay?"

"Amy, I'm fine. Just listen: I don't have much time and I don't think I'll be able to get another phone call. I just wanted to see if I could get ahold of you and talk - see how you're doing."

"Okay well wait, if you don't have much time then there's something you need to know."

Ricky pressed his ear closer to the phone, "What?" He said sharply, and he hoped it was nothing bad - he couldn't take anymore bad news.

"I'm coming to find you. Where are you?"

"What? Amy, are you serious?" He couldn't believe it.

"I'll explain more later, after I find you - where are you, Ricky?"

He suddenly felt like he had been sucker punched in the gut. "Um, I'm not sure."

"What?" Amy said, confused. "How do you not know?"

"It's..." he glanced around again, searching for any sign of his location. He should have thought about that before he used his fifty cents. "It's difficult to explain, and would be better if I could tell you in person."

"Well, that's good then - but I still need to find you first."

There was a moment of silence, and Ricky didn't know what to say or how to respond. The words of his father bellowed in his mind again. Why would she come looking for _him? _

"Why would you come looking for me, Amy?" Even through the phone, she could sense the heartache in his voice.

She returned with her own moment of silence, "Because. Because we need to find John."

"Yeah." Ricky could feel his whole body begin to sting.

"Ricky-"

"Just tell me where you are," he attempted to mask his pain.

"I'm...about thirty miles from LA; been driving all night." Amy attempted to keep the peace, even though Ricky sounded angry, but she understood.

"I'll do my best to find out where I am and try to call you."

"Okay, Ricky. It's getting late though, we should both get some rest and I'll find you tomorrow."

"I -" but he stopped himself, and she heard him sniffle subtly.

"Yes?"

"I-I'll call you." And he hung up the phone, slamming it back against the machine. The pain was gripping at him, twisting his very insides, but what was it he had stopped himself from saying?

Ricky took a deep breathe: maybe his emotions were just getting the best of him.

* * *

The young father spent the next few hours searching for a place to sleep for the night - and the thought that he could simply ask someone where he was had not slipped his mind, he just determined it probably wasn't the best idea. Given that incident today, when the worker knew who he was, and how much national attention missing childs' cases get, he figured that most people probably would recognize his face.

He also knew that he couldn't, or shouldn't, leave where he was at - it would be counterproductive to move elsewhere while Amy was looking for him. At least she had an idea where she was, and it was getting relatively dark, so they were both going to rest for the night. Ricky knew now better than ever that it wasn't good to be out alone in the nighttime, and he hoped that Amy would find some place to stay rather than just in his SUV.

Amy. He couldn't get the phone conversation out of his head, and the way her voice sounded. He hadn't heard it in so long, and it was virtually a godsend to hear that she was already looking for him. The words of his father, 'she's just using you', seemed to drift from his mind, replaced with the memories that were made on their vacation trip.

His hope had been rekindled the night before, after pondering his life now that all this had happened. He had made a promise to himself and to Amy at the resort: and he was going to be better. Over the past two weeks, Ricky had succumbed to a diseased and rotting state, feeling the immense weight and pain of losing his child. Setting out on his own had always seemed like the right thing from the beginning, but it quickly turned into something terrifying. The time spent with Amy and John at the hotel had changed him, or more so made him realize certain things, and after his son was taken, and Amy was hurt, those things nearly shattered. But he then recalled something Kyle had asked him that night atop the hill: why do we fall?

Ricky had plummeted, and his depression had plagued his very life - but no longer.

He feared asking Amy to come help him; he didn't want to request putting her in harms way - but he didn't have to: she wanted to search for him, and they, together, want to find their son.

Ricky settled into a secluded, dark space between two stacks of pallets on the side of a grocery store, pulling himself into a ball. As he closed his eyes, although his mind was still racing, he felt himself rapidly drifting off to sleep. Why do we fall?

One step forward, two steps back.

No. One step at a time, and never look back.

_A/N: Chapter XII will be called "Reunion" - stay tuned! =]_


	13. Reunion

**"All I Ever Needed"**

_Chapter XII: "Reunion"_

Companionship: A virtue that has stood the test of time throughout the history of man. Over the millenia, through every hardship that humans have had to endure, the power of love and companionship has propelled us forward, infusing a bond between us all that cannot be easily broken by the challenges we face. It ensures a lasting hope - a final defense against anything that may threaten us.

* * *

The man reached up and pulled the worn blanket from his face, his eyes squinting as the clouded sun briefly blinded him. He remained still for a moment, the blanket that lay over him rising and falling rhythmically with each breathe. The wind whipped around him, causing his make-shift shelter to quiver. He reached over with his hand to feel beside him, but his hand only collapsed to the dirt. He squeezed the soil tightly in his hand and sighed: all alone.

The days were growing darker, if that were even possible for his world. Even with the sliver of hope that he now had to grasp, Ricky felt that his reality had begun to slip away, perhaps too far for him to retrieve. Alone for more than two weeks, his body had begun to break down physically and emotionally. He had cut ties to virtually everybody back home, and he figured that people were almost as worried about him as they were his son.

Ricky finally shoved off the worn blankets and stood up, wobbling slightly. He looked out over the field at the sun crowning over the horizon. Each morning the sun seemed duller, its light fading into nothingness. Each morning Ricky looked up, hoping that the yellow sphere would provide him something, and now it rarely did.

Reality is, "that which is". And when you have no one to talk to, no one to be around, you're reality changes: as had Ricky's.

The days were all but gray; his hope had diminished long before, for what was only two weeks had seemed like an eternity.

Ricky could recall the conversation with Amy that he had had the night before, but it all seemed like a dream.

Was she really going to come?

* * *

"Hello."

"Hi," the man replied.

"I was wondering if you could help me."

"What is it you need help with, kid?"

"I -", he stuttered, "I was just wondering if you could let me borrow some money. A few dollars, that's all."

The man remained calm, but his face now bore a look of skepticism. "Why? So you can go and spend it on alcohol or drugs? No, sir."

"No, no," Ricky replied. "I was just wondering if you could spare a few dollars for some decent clothes or something."

The man surveyed Ricky up and down. "Why would I give a man dressed in tattered clothes, dirty, and scruffy money that he could use for getting high or drunk?"

"Perhaps, with money, you wouldn't have to think such things, seeing as the man might not look so dirty or scruffy."

The man smiled warmly. "Hmmm..." He paused momentarily, as if carefully surveying the situation. "I suppose you're right. Here," he reached into his wallet and pulled out a fifty dollar bill, "clean yourself up, kid."

"Thank you. Thank you so much, sir. I really appreciate it." Ricky beamed through his dirt-masked face.

The man nodded. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

Ricky held the bill tightly in his hand, running his thumb over its crisp surface. "Yeah, I think everything is going to be okay."

* * *

"Hey, Ben."

Ben was standing against the balcony as he looked out at the morning sun. "Hi, Adrian," he replied. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," she said with a smile. "It was nice and cool. I'm thinking about going out today; there's a sort of "prepping parents" place just a few blocks away. Come with me?"

"Yeah, sure," Ben nodded. "I'd love to come and learn some things about the baby."

"Great," she smiled again. "I'll just go get dressed and we can head out."

"Okay." Ben smiled, and watched her as she walked back into their condo: she really looked beautiful this morning.

* * *

As the day drew on, the sun ascending to its highest point in the sky, and starting to drop down again, the small town where Ricky had resided these past few days began to come alive. Although the name of his location was still unknown to him, and Ricky dare not ask another person or risk being recognized, the young father had grown to become more observant of his surroundings - to use his eyes and ears. And it quickly became evident to him that whatever small pit-stop town he had taken refuge in was indeed ruled by night clubs and bars. In the day time it was all but dead, but at night the dark sky around the town was illuminated exquisitely by an assortment of different colored flashing lights that came from seemingly everywhere. Drawing close to one bar or the other you could here the music and people having a good time inside.

However, on the outskirts of town lay a small and irrelevant diner - a place for those to come who perhaps weren't into the party life, or were just passing through, or, like Ricky, needed a place to stay. Alone in the darkest corner of the '50s style diner, Ricky sat with his hands folded neatly on the table as he stared down on its strange patterns.

Thanks to the man, Ricky had been able to purchase some cheap clothes from a local thrift store. It wasn't much, and definitely not what one might deem "stylish", but Ricky was clean and warm. He had found a place to wash off and shave, and as he scrubbed the dirt and grime from the crevices of his body he somehow felt more free, as though a pressure had been taken off his shoulders. It was only then that Ricky realized it had been there, and now he felt that he could almost fly away.

Still, however, he hadn't talked to Amy since the night before, and their vague conversation played over again and again in his mind. He had been alone for so long, with no one to talk to but himself, that he had almost forgotten her voice, and it was extraordinary to hear it again. But now he missed it; now he longed to hear Amy's voice - anyone's voice but his own. Ricky couldn't keep doing this, not even one more day. While he was hopelessly waiting in a town he didn't even know the name of, John was somewhere out there with his estranged father, Amy was searching for him, and the police were searching for her.

There was no doubt in Ricky's mind now that he was labeled a fugitive - they were hunting him. They know of his past with his father, and they think that he's gone out in search of revenge. Perhaps they're right.

Ricky looked up at the clock, as he had done so many times that night. "10 P.M." it read. He found himself hopelessly staring at the hands as they ticked in rhythm. When one pays attention to the time, it seems to go so slowly - but it's excruciating when you don't know what to do with the time that is given to you. And then your thoughts betray you, and you begin to assume.

Ricky reached into his pocket and withdrew his cell phone. He had turned it off just a few days after departing to look for John - part of the reason being to preserve battery, and partly because he knew they could track him through it. But now none of that seemed to matter; Ricky was finished waiting, and he wanted to change things now.

He held the phone to his ear and held his breathe as he waited quietly...one ring, then another, and another.

And another.

"Ricky?"

"Amy?"

"Ricky, why are you calling me from your phone?"

"I just wanted to talk to you."

Amy smiled, although he couldn't see it. "Listen, I'm just about to get back on the road - I know I'm heading in the right direction."

"How're you?"

"I'm good Ricky," she laughed. "We just talked last night, not much change. How're you?"

"I'm...better. Got myself cleaned up, new clothes - but I can hardly stand it here. I miss...everybody."

"We're gonna find John," Amy said with a determined tone.

Ricky didn't answer, for something else had drawn his attention.

"I've been traveling on the same highway all day, and just stopped to get something to eat. Tell me how to find you," she said.

"I-"

"Is everything okay?"

"Hold on," Ricky leapt from his seat, his eyes fixated outside the diner. In a few swift strides Ricky burst through the front glass doors.

"Ricky?"

"Amy, hold on. Hey!" He called into the night.

Not twenty feet to the right of the diner was a dim alleyway, its entrance lit only by the faint street light overhead. Suddenly there was a muffled scream and a loud crash.

"Hey!" Ricky called again as he raced over to the alley, only to find a young woman lying beaten on the cold ground, her head propped up against a trash dumpster. Over her stood a black-clothed man, his back to Ricky. The man reached down and smacked the woman in the face, laughing and taunting her as he continued to hit her. Her cream-colored face was distorted by her frizzy, reddish-black hair and cuts and bruises around her mouth and eyes. Again and again she called out for help, attempting to fight off his assailant.

"What's a little bitch gon do?" The man slurred.

"Hey, what the hell, man!" Ricky instantly dropped his phone and ran up, feeling adrenaline begin to course violently through his veins. He grabbed the man by the shoulder and focused every ounce of his strength on turning him around before sending a shockwave of force against the mans chest with his hands. The man exclaimed in pain and surprisement as he fell back, slicing a deep cut from wrist to elbow on his right arm from a piece of metal that protruded from the brick wall of the diner.

Ricky stood over the man, his chest heaving erratically with his deep and powerful breaths. He fully expected the man to retaliate, but when he didn't Ricky lowered his guard. He didn't recognize him - he must've been from out of town; a drifter maybe.

The man turned over onto his back and laughed. "Come to save your damsel in distress?"

"Don't move."

"Ah, come on, man. Just tryin' to have a little fun!" The man, whose face was still hardly visible to Ricky, reached up to wipe his hair from his eyes. "She a drug whore - don't mean nothing. You wanna go first?" He laughed again.

"She's someone." And then Ricky did something he shouldn't have done, and turned his back to the man to help up the beaten woman.

Ricky reached down and grabbed her by the arms, hoisting her up to her feet.

Her eyes widened. "No," she said, and all went black.

* * *

Somewhere in the dark and coldness of night, Ricky awoke. He opened his eyes, but saw nothing. The endless black void penetrated his mind, and he suddenly felt a throbbing pain emit from the back of his cranium, wrapping around his head and down into the rest of his body. He tried to move, but his limbs wouldn't give. Ricky heard the wind beat against a cloth, and realized that he was secluded under a make-shift shelter. There were no sounds - no traces of life; even his thoughts seemed to have abandoned him. Somewhere in the dark and coldness of night, Ricky was alone.

An eternity seemed to pass; Ricky was being kept in an endless purgatory, unable to move or breathe. The sounds of crunching broke the endless horror, penetrating through the whipping winds. Ricky's trance ceased, and he realized the crunching sounds were getting closer - someone was coming.

Unable to defend himself, Ricky watched and listened in horror as the footsteps drew nearer, the unrelenting crunching became slower and louder. His heart beat pounded in unison with each step. And then they stopped, and there was light. A roaring mass of reds, yellows, and oranges arose in front of him, and for the first time Ricky could lay eyes upon his surroundings. It took him a moment, but he soon acknowledged the now-roaring fire in front of him. Ricky froze: A man was standing before him.

"You awake, kid?" The man knelt down to see under the tarp, his face blackened by the night, but it didn't matter: Ricky recognized his voice.

"No."

* * *

In the deep blackness of night, lit only by the small flickering flames of the fire and the pale illumination of the moon overhead, two figures sat in a small opening amongst the thick forest. The night was cool and silent. Neither of the two spoke, they simply sat there across from each other, staring deep into what remained of their fire, the hot red and orange flames reflecting in their eyes.

Every now and then one of them would reach out and poke the fire with a stick. The silence of night was only slightly muffled by the soft crackling of the charring wood as it smoldered.

"How did you find me?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does."

"Not anymore. I heard what happened to your son, and I am very sorry."

"I'm out here looking for him. We're gonna find him."

"'We'?"

"Yes, Amy is..." Ricky trailed off, pulling the blanket tighter around his curled body. "She's coming to find me, and then we're going to get John."

"Do you know who took him?"

"My father."

The man looked surprised. "Your father?"

Ricky acknowledged his confusion. "My real father - my foster dad died, and so did my foster mother."

The man shook his head solemnly. "That's tough, Ricky."

"That man back there, what happened to him?"

"I don't know. I found you unconscious outside of a diner."

"There was a woman; did you see a woman there too?"

The man shook his head again. "No, there was no other. There was blood on the ground and I heard police sirens in the distance - I recognized you and had to get you out of there immediately; they're searching for you."

Ricky scoffed. "They think I'm going to try to take revenge on my father for what he's done. Perhaps they're right. None of this should have happened, ever."

"You've gone through hell, kid, but you're still standing."

"Staggering," and they both shared a chuckle.

"I remember when I spoke to you that night on the hill, and how contemplative you were about your life. I remember how you said you wanted to be a better man for your son and Amy."

"I miss her - I really do. They're the two most important people in my life. But what's your point?"

"You speak of hopelessness and no point to all of this happening - your son being abducted, your parents passing away, your separation from all those you care about, from Amy. I think if it was truly hopeless, if you didn't trust inside of you that everything was somehow going to be okay, you would've given up by now."

"I did. You didn't see me before today - I unraveled."

"But you survived, and I don't know many people who could endure what you have had to."

"Are you a believer?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Ricky."

"God. Do you believe in a 'God'?"

Kyle's expression changed and he became very serious. "What is it you're thinking?"

Ricky paused, his eyes remained focused out into the darkness. "I used to see this girl, and she always talked about Him. She said that everything happens for a reason."

"I believe that."

"I just don't understand why, if there is a God, that he lets these things happen. I mean...what reasoning could there be behind this."

"Perhaps He's trying to tell you something. This is very deep, mind-boggling stuff, Ricky. There is a difference between facts and beliefs. I personally have resorted to living my life by facts - things that can be proven scientifically, but maybe there are things - beliefs - which we can't prove, that we just know."

"What do we know, Kyle? Why would anyone do this to anyone?" Ricky felt a subtle surge of emotion ignite inside of him. "There are times when I sit in the dark, alone and quiet, where it's just me and my thoughts. And to me it seems with the absence of light, things seem so much simpler and easy to understand - the world and it's 'reasons'. I can see myself, just me. I can feel comfortable with everything in my life, no worries, no past troubles. It's just...simple. But when I think of Amy, my heart sinks. It reminds me how bad of a person I have been in the past, and my thoughts lead me to John."

"Sometimes the beauty of life and what happens in it is not knowing the reasons for why things happen, and knowing that maybe in time we're supposed to understand the reason, and grow from it."

"Maybe. But I hope this reason is good. I don't know anything anymore."

"Maybe that's what He's trying to get you to figure out."

A thick silence enveloped the two, and for what seemed like hours they continued to sit in the darkness, their surroundings lit only by the smoldering fire in front of them. As the night drew on, a cold wind slithered by and extinguished what remained of their fire. The sky overhead had now cleared, the last of the rain water seeping into the soil, and so Kyle took down the tarp and placed it over their bodies in an attempt to keep warm.

"Do you ever wish you were dead, Kyle?"

"No," he replied, his eyelids fluttering as sleep tempted him.

"Yes," Ricky smirked. "I suppose it's foolish to ask for luxuries in times like these."

When he awoke in the morning, with the light of the sun forcing his eyes open, Ricky quickly realized that Kyle was gone, and, once again, he was alone.

* * *

Ricky held the pay phone up closely to his ear, listening and waiting for her to pick up. He had made his way back into town, and knew he had to get a hold of Amy and find out where she was; Kyle had left him a map, a red circle marking where he was.

The dial tone stopped - silence.

"Hey, Amy? I just wanted to let you know where I am; I finally found out-" But he was cut off.

"Hey, son." Ricky froze. "Looks like we have ourselves a little family reunion."

_A/N: Hey, wow I'm so sorry I haven't updated in over a month. Things have been pretty crazy: new job, back to school. Hope you all enjoyed the end of the Secret Life season (although can't wait until January), and I'll try to get the remaining chapters out as soon as possible. Thanks!_


	14. Ultimatum

**All I Ever Needed**

_Chapter XIII: "Ultimatum"_

"Well, that was interesting."

"Yeah, I definitely learned a few things I did not know about being pregnant," Adrian replied as they walked out of the parenting center. Dusk had begun to fall across the green California hills; the cool night wind beginning to whip through the sky.

Ben chuckled, "A few things I'm not sure I wanted to know."

"Hey, it wasn't that bad," Adrian remarked. "It was interesting to see how the baby might look, and I'm excited to go in for a sonogram when we get home."

"What do you want?"

Adrian smiled, "What do you mean, like gender?" Ben nodded. "I would like a little senorita."

"See, I want a boy. This is going to be interesting," he joked. "Regardless, I think we're going to make a pretty good looking kid."

"Oh, I wouldn't argue that," and Adrian smiled, pulling on Ben's hand as she stopped walking. The much taller of the two turned and threw her a sarcastically questioning look.

"Come here," she said, and pulled her close to him. As the glorious orange sun began to seep below the horizon, a final ray of light pierced through the trees and fell upon her face. "It's really beautiful isn't it?"

"Yes," Ben half-smiled, his eyes never leaving Adrian. She gazed out upon the sunset, but caught his eyes looking down at her. "Ben?" She turned to smile back.

He leaned his head down and gently pressed his lips against hers, wrapping his arms around her waist. Taken aback slightly at first, Adrian found herself unconsciously reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.

"I'm glad we came," Adrian almost whispered as she rested her head against his chest.

"I hate that we have to go back tomorrow."

It was just the two of them now; all the other couples had retreated into the parking lot. They held each other close, standing on the side walk as the setting sun illuminated them still.

"Yes," she replied. "Me too."

* * *

"Hey where's Ashley?"

"She went out," Anne responded as she carefully placed another plate in the dish washer.

"...Out? What do you mean she went out?"

"I mean she went out with some people, what do you think it means?"

George stood in the doorway, obviously confused. "I just didn't think she knew...people."

Anne closed the dish washer and pressed a few buttons. "Yeah, I thought it would be good for her to go out and get a break from all of this."

"Are these 'people' guys?"

"Relax, George. I think it's just some of Amy's friends from school - the christian girl and a few others."

"Oh," George smiled, "well alright then. Speaking of which, when's the last time you talked to Ames? Keeping this whole 'my daughter is out searching for her son too' thing from the police is really starting to take its toll."

"Actually I haven't talked to her in a day or so, I thought you had, though." Anne finished pouring herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table with the daily newspaper. "I'll admit I'm worried, and I'm not sure what has stopped me from contacting the authorities about this...but if she's found Ricky, I know they'll be okay."

"Yeah, you've been really great about this whole situation, Anne. I think we've really handled it as well as possible," George complimented as he sat down across from her.

Anne smiled, "We do make a good...team."

"Do you think that Ricky and Amy will ever be a...'team'?"

Anne's brow furrowed as her ex husband's random yet serious question. "I think John being abducted will either bring them closer together or tear them apart. We'll just have to wait and see until we get our grandson back."

"You really believe they're gonna find John?"

"Yes, don't you?" Anne set down the paper, even today's local news seemed irrelevant in comparison to this conversation.

"Yes. A part of me thinks its illogical to believe so, but another believes in-"

"Ricky and Amy," Anne finished for him, and George smiled, her eyes locked onto his from across the table. "He's a good guy, better than we thought."

"Yes, he is. I'm proud that he was the guy who got Amy pregnant, even though that sounds odd. I'd rather him than anybody else," George justified.

Anne smiled, in her heart she felt hopeful.

* * *

"So, did you hear?" One man said to the other as he swung the club.

"Hear what?" The larger of the two questioned as he stepped up to the tee. "Nice shot."

"Adrian and Ben are coming back tomorrow," Reuben informed as he slid his driver back into his golf bag, wiping a small grass stain off of its head with a towel. "And they're going to learn the sex of the baby when they go in for a sonogram soon."

"They can do that this early in the pregnancy?" Leo swung his club, striking the small, dimpled white ball with powerful force and sending it just a tad farther than his friends.

"Well it's not too terribly early on, and yes from what she said: in a few days they'll find out."

"When did you talk to her? Ben still hasn't really talked to me the whole time they've been on that vacation." Both men swung the straps of their bags over their shoulders and began to walk down the nicely cut, green fairway.

"I've only talked to her once the whole time, and so has Cindy. Apparently they're keeping pretty busy - she couldn't even talk for too long tonight, they went to some parenting class."

"My son went to a parenting class? I don't believe it."

"I don't believe you hit the ball that far; can barely see in this light." Reuben teased as he looked down towards the hole.

"Me either," Leo returned, and then two both shared a laugh. "It's almost dark though, we should finish this up."

* * *

"What did I tell you, son? It was best to give the kid up to me in the first place. We wouldn't have had to go through all this trouble."

Ricky opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His stomach lurched when he heard the calm words of his father, slithering with poison through the phone. He felt like he had been kicked numb in his chest, and now his very pain choked him.

"Such a good little boy you have here, Rick. He hasn't fussed the whole time."

"If you touch him," Ricky's inner fire suddenly sparked to life.

Bob let out a short laugh on the other end. "Not need to get angry. Don't worry about that. Right now there's nothing to worry about for him, or her."

Ricky's eyes widened, and he felt the burning rage inside of him deflate. He bowed his head against the pay phone, pressing it tightly to his ear so that all other sounds were eliminated. "Why are you doing this?" He questioned, but recieved no direct answer.

"No doubt you've taken it upon yourself to look for him. Whatever misplaced sense of self-rightousness you hold is worthless now."

"If you harm Amy, or my son, I will hunt you down into whatever hole you slither back into and do-."

"Do what? Your anger and arrogance blinds you - makes you weak. There is nothing, nothing you can do. You're hopeless and alone."

"Your words of hatred would bother me, but for the fact that now I don't believe you. Mom said-"

"You talked to your mother?" Bob's harsh tone was broken by legitimate questioning.

"...She said you were good once, I find that hard to believe." Only silence came from the other end.

"You don't know, Ricky. You know nothing of me or her, or our life together before."

"I know enough - I remember enough. I remember that you were never good to me, or her." Ricky felt hot tears begin to well in the corners of his eyes. "You should know by now that you're going to be caught - there's no escape. Everybody's looking for you.

"You took away my childhood, Amy - trust me when I say I'm not going to let you take my son. Because of you I've lived a bad life, and these past two weeks have really shown how near to the brink I can go. You, father, took away what I care for most in my life. You've put me through unspeakable hell, so you best hope they find you before I do, because I know where you are."

Ricky's powerful words echoes in Bob's mind, but his voice remained solemn. "I know my days are numbered, and my time is wearing thin, so let me make this quick: I'm going to tell you where they are, both of them - Amy and John. And that's the point, Ricky, you're going to have to choose which one, only one.

"Why are you doing this?" Ricky questioned again, but through his seething hatred he felt yet another stab of excrutiating pain: "Da-da," John said through the phone.


	15. Choices

**"All I Ever Needed"**

**Chapter XIV: "Choices"**

_"It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."_

_-J.K. Rowling_

* * *

"You understand?"

"Yes," the woman replied flatly.

"This has to be done right."

"I know," she responded again, her voice tingly with annoyance.

In the corner of a small, dark room, a man sat in the shadows. There was a faint light hanging in the middle of the enclosed space, dimly illuminating a woman who stood beneath it.

"When he goes for the boy, I'll be waiting. And you will do as I have instructed, no more, no less."

"This is pointless," she replied softly.

The man paused, holding back his words, if he could even find them. "There is something else. Something he told me himself when I spoke to him."

"Oh, really," she smirked, "and what's that Bob?"

The shadowed man slowly stood, stepping forward into the pale light. His stern demeanor was undeterred by her sarcasm. "He tells me that you've been talking to him."

Nora let out a short laugh, but her eyes told a different story - a story of fear. "I have not."

Bob sneered, flailing his hand outwards, striking Nora in the cheek. She fell to the floor instantly, holding her bruised face.

"You son of a bitch," she said, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the floor.

"You better not be talking to him. That was part of the deal. If he knows anything, anything at all, this entire thing is screwed. If I find out you have been...you're risking everything that we're doing here."

"What you're doing."

Bob pulled back his hand once more, preparing to strike her again, but managed to contain himself as he stared her down, and instead shook his finger at her. "Don't forget what I'm doing for you because of this."

Nora let out a short laugh as she wobbled to her feet. "You speak like as a man who is capable of sympathy - I abandoned any hope of that long ago."

Bob exhaled heavily. "Go, now, get the hell out of here."

Nora stood, wiping a smear of blood from the corner of her mouth. She stared down her ex-husband, his eyes full of vengeance and deceit. She turned slowly and opened the door, her head still cocked in his direction. "You know your time is limited. You know he's going to find you. You might think you're invincible here, playing a game of cat and mouse with him. But all those years of hell we put him through have made him the man he is today. I would think about what exactly that means as you sit here torturing him. I'd also contemplate just what you're going to do to defend yourself, because I guarantee he's on his way." And with that, she smiled, and slipped through the cracked space, closing the door behind her.

* * *

"Da-da." The words of his son echoed through Ricky's mind over and over again. And now, even worse, Bob had Amy. How? Ricky had no idea, but as to why he knew exactly: an ultimatum, the final obstacle thrown in his way. He now had to make a choice.

The young father sat against the wall, feeling the cemented crevices between the bricks press against his back. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them for warmth: night was drawing nearer, and with it the cool breeze he had withstood for so long. Ricky had withstood a lot of things lately, just like Kyle said, and yet here he sat, alive.

However, For the past month Ricky felt as though he had lost everything: his very conscious overshadowed with overwhelming pain and misery. He realized now how foolish it was to take the burden of this all alone, even though at the outset it seemed to be the best idea: to sever his relationships. But then because of this he felt guilty: he self-exiled himself, drowning in a ferocious sea of self-pity. The words of his father had been banished from his mind as of late, but he felt they were always searching for the opportune moment to reach back and haunt him.

Ricky leaned his head back until it rested against the wall of the bus station. He had even considered suicide. He had never even dreamt of such a low place to contemplate something like that, but it had happened, almost. His emotions had been erratic over the weeks, fluctuating up and down: high and low, good and bad - nearly at the cost of his sanity.

Ricky longed to hold his son again, to see him. To look down at his smiling face and see the wonder in his eyes. He always felt that he owed something to John, because of what Bob took from him as a child. And then, Amy. She had put herself at risk to find him. Ricky smiled subtly to himself: she had cared enough to do that. No one had ever done something for him before, and now she was at the disposal of his own father.

The emotional scars would always remind Ricky of the suffering he was put through by the hands of that man, and damned if he wasn't going to do something about it now. Perhaps he would never fully recover; his wounds would always burn with the pain of a childhood innocence lost, but Ricky knew in his heart that it was time for a change. Too long had he sat hopeless in the shadows. Too long had he allowed his emotions to spike up and down with no ending result.

The man who robbed Ricky of his childhood was threatening to break him again. Only this time, Ricky could fight back.

Suddenly he heard a loud whistle ring out, and a long, gray bus pulled up in front of him. As the doors split open and various people started to walk in and out, Ricky looked at the side of the giant vehicle: number 4. It was this bus that would take him where he needed to go: Los Angeles. Thanks to Kyle, Ricky had gathered much needed intel on his whereabouts. The map, coupled with Ricky's father's own words, gave him a direct route to his destination. However, time was short, and the young man was grateful he was only about an hour and a half away from the "City of Angels".

Angels, Ricky chuckled to himself. Damn, he could sure use one of those right about now.

He stood, clutching the ticket in his hand and made his way forward, slipping past various people as he edged ever closer to the doors. And then, there they were right in front of him. Deep in his heart, Ricky knew as soon as he stepped onto this bus, this was it. He was afraid to face his father, and dreaded the inevitability, but he knew he had to. There's no going back now.

He took a deep breathe, breathing in the rich, cool night, and felt confident as he stepped onto the bus. He had just taken his first step on his final journey; it was time for a change. Ricky knew that he could no longer dwell on the past, or fear the future. He needed to be focused: Ricky was going to get them back.

* * *

It was the early morning, and the sun was beginning to peek ever so slightly over the California hills, enveloping the quiet neighborhood in a warm, orange glow. All was still, with the exception of one elderly gentleman trudging slowly down his driveway, in "hot" pursuit of his morning paper.

The morning breeze made every blade of green grass flow together like the waves on the water; the small, soaring shadows of the birds overhead painted the ground. All was calm. All was still.

Suddenly, through the silence, a soft rumbling was heard down the street, and over a small hill. With each passing second it grew louder and louder, until a small vehicle ascended to the summit of the hill, silhouetting itself against the rising sun.

It came swiftly down the street, a black car with blacked out windows, barreling past houses, its rumblings echoing off their structures. It made a soft turn and started to slow, pulling over in the street: in front of the Juergens home.

The mechanical rumbling ceased, and after a brief moment, two gentlemen, dressed in black suits, exited the car, gently closing the doors behind them. They looked momentarily at each other and their surroundings before making their way up the cement driveway.

They had all but reached the doorstep, for one of them had even held out his closed fist, preparing to knock, when the wooden door abruptly opened.

"Do you have any idea what time it is, gentlemen?" An aggravated George Juergens, still appearing half asleep, blurted out.

The two men surveyed the other, glancing him up and down, before they peered at each other once more. "It's nice to see you, again, too, Mr. Juergens." The taller one said.

Through George's droopy eyes, he quickly recognized the two. "Oh, come in, come in." He moved aside.

"You remember my partner, Davis," Steven Black re-introduced his stout, mustached partner as he slowly entered the doorway.

"Yes, yes, of course," replied George, who now seemed eager to see the two police officers.

"Where are the girls?" Davis said, following behind his colleague.

"Oh, um, Ashley and Anne are asleep, and Amy-" He clapped his hands together and looked around the room: he couldn't think of an excuse fast enough. However, in George's defense, it was rather early.

"No need to entertain us, Mr. Juergens," Officer Black said with a subtle nod. "We know she's not here. But don't worry, we assure you she's fine - if you're wondering why we're here."

"Superb observation, officer," George sarcastically replied, although in his heart he was relieved to here his Amy was alright. "Where is she? What's this about then?"

"Let's take a seat. May we?" The father, who was now coming to his senses, nodded and motioned for the two officers to follow him into the living room.

"You guys want some coffee, or something?" George offered as he sat down on the couch.

"We're fine," Davis assured, and in turn the two descended onto another couch opposite Mr. Juergens.

"You sure? It'll only take a few minutes."

"We're fine, Mr. Juergens," Black reassured, a serious tone to his already chiseled face.

"Alright," George conceded. He leaned back against the cushy furniture, clasping his hands together. "Why are here, then?"

"We believe we now have confirmation on your grandson's whereabouts," Black said.

George's head cocked to the side. "You told us that awhile back. We never heard much from you until now."

Black glanced over at his partner. "Your frustration is understandable, sir," the shorter inspector said, "but certain complications arose last time. This time, however, we have credible confirmation."

"'Certain complications'?" George's brow wrinkled. "After all that we've gone through, I would hope you would at least be honest with me."

The two officers exchanged yet another look. "Professionally, it is a police matter, George." Steven Black stood slowly. "One where it is protocol not to speak of with civilians. But personally, I agree with you, and so I'll be honest. Our lead from before was erased. Meaning, the information suddenly vanished. We tried contacting the lead investigator, the one from Seattle, Kyle, but received no response." He reached out and rested his hand on George's shoulder. "But now we got him. We have found your grandson, and Amy. They're just fine in LA. We're going to get them, and we want you to come with us, George."

"Anne and Ashley?"

"No time," Black said.

George's eyes softened, and he nodded. "Ok," he said.

* * *

The night was young in the city of Los Angeles. The sun had barely drooped below the California hills, setting the illustrious city alight in a pinkish-orange glow. High in the sky, however, the darkening tint of night had begun to overtake; the very atmosphere was dotted with faded lights from far away, and the cool, summer air drifted throughout.

As Ricky stepped off the bus, he was immediately consumed by the madness of the station: people moving in and out, hurriedly pushing their way past each other; the noise of their garbled chatter succeeded only by the voice of a monotone man over the speaker, announcing dates, times, and destinations.

Ricky walked across the platform towards the large glass doors that separated him and the main lobby. He looked about the room, slightly in awe: never before had he been surrounded by the conditions of such a big city. But the people around him excused it as nothing, simply with their body language. It was apparent to Ricky that the vast majority of them did this every day.

He saw a computerized map of the city of LA on the wall, and walked towards it, studying and trying to find out where he was and what he was going to do. Bob called from this city and the intel he received indicated the telephone number of the eastern sector of the lively town. Concentrating fully of the map, Ricky heard a voice from behind.

"Surprised to see you here, kiddo."

The words penetrated Ricky's head and exploded like a mini-grenade inside his brain: he recognized the voice instantly, turning in a flash to face their speaker.

"Nora?" Ricky questioned in disbelief.

"'Nora' is it? I suppose 'mom' is a title no longer in use?" Her smile bore a mischievous flare. She leaned against the concrete wall that separated the platform from the main lobby; her arms were crossed, securing a jacket she held between them.

Ricky's face scrunched: there she stood. "Mom?" Again in disbelief.

Nora nodded once, maintaining her small smile. "Thought you'd be excited to see me, kid."

The young man's lips parted as he searched for the words, but all he could muster was a subtle shake of his head before taking three long, quick strides to eliminate the distance between the two, and threw his arms around his mother, holding her tight to him. It was Nora's turn to be surprised as her son held her tight. She had forgotten, or rather, never truly known what the love of a parent and child felt like until Ricky embraced her, but damned if she was going to let it go.

People continued to walk in and out of the room as the various buses arrived and departed. Over the speaker, the voice of the monotone man continuing to read off times of departure and destinations overtook the assortment of other sounds that resulted from the constant mayhem, but it mattered not. Not to Ricky, and not to his mother - the person he least expected to see, but ever so glad he did, in LA of all places. He had been alone for so long that it was an undeniable relief to see a familiar face, but as he closed his eyes and continued to hold tight his mother, one question lingered inside.

"Mom," Ricky said, finally breaking their embrace, "wh-what are you doing here?"

Nora removed her arms from him and placed one firm hand on his shoulder. The moment he had breathed those words, her smile ceased. "Ricky," her voice was barely a whisper. He could see her eyes dart around them, scanning the area as best she could to avoid something. But what? "We need to talk, but not here." He leaned in closer as to better understand her; the noises around them muffled her tone, but the young father could tell, without a doubt, that this was by no means an accidental run-in.

Nora's eyes stopped their search and focused back on the confused son. "Come, now," she commanded, curling his consoling hand into a fist, grabbing his shirt, and pulling him behind her.

She led him out of the zoo-like atmosphere of the station, into the increased chaotic environment of the city streets. The bus station was in a decent neighborhood, but any turn down a dark alley would result in definite threat and isolation from life on the main streets. Ricky followed along as best he could, trying to keep up with Nora as he continued to grab his shirt, pulling him along; she seemed to have a fixed destination as she shuffled past people on the side-walk, but her head continued on a swivel.

"Mom, where are we going?" Ricky questioned. He had just exited a bus in one of the busiest cities in the country, soley on a mission to find his son, and now he was being led through the side-walk traffic of people by a person he never expected to see.

"Keep your voice down, Ricky," Nora proclaimed. Suddenly she paused, causing Ricky to gently bump into her back. "Watch yourself, kid." She finally let loose her grip on Ricky's shirt; it felt a bit more stretched than before. His chest heaved slightly, inhaling as much oxygen as possible. Suddenly Nora's swiveling head eyed a building across the street, and she stepped off the curb, beginning to make her way across the busy asphault. Various words and horns rang out as they slithered through taxis and cars, causing Nora to retaliate with a few words of her own.

"Nora, what the hell are you doing?" Ricky questioned harshly as they stepped onto the curb once more. He reached out to grab his mother's arm, but she quickly turned with an outstretched hand, and smacked him in the face. Ricky moaned in displeasure, tending to his sizzling cheek, but not before Nora gave him a sarcastic look and smiled.

"In here," she motioned with a nod of her head.

Ricky followed her inside the building: it was made of brick, with a neon sign hanging on its front. Inside was dark, lit by more neon lights and television sets playing various pro sports games. Although not as equally chaotic, the atmosphere was still something to be prepared for. Dozens of people populated the bar, standing around, dancing, and sitting at the elongated counter waiting to be served. Ricky smirked to himself, you gotta be kidding.

Nora seemed to sense Ricky's suggestive thoughts towards her and gave him a reassuring glance, motioning for him to follow her to a secluded table in the back.

"Why are we here?" Ricky said as they sat down in the booth opposite each other. "I didn't come to LA to accompany you for a drink. I'm not even eighteen I shouldn't even be in here."

"Relax, Ricky," Nora said with slight annoyance. "I know the owner, how do you think we got in here without a bouncer checking us? And no, we're not here for a drink." She looked around the raucous bar.

"Why do you keep doing that? Why do you keep looking around?" Inside his mind, Ricky became even more confused. If they were not here for a drink, if there was another reason his mother bumped into him and brought him here, what was it?

"Listen to me, kid, I'm gonna put it to you plain and simple," Nora responded sharply, leaning her head in closer across the table, prompting Ricky to do the same. "I know about your son. I know that you lost him."

"I didn't lose him," Ricky said was a tinge of guilt in his voice: the heartache of losing John and Amy returned to him. "He was taken from me."

Nora's face grew more serious. "And I know about Amy - how she's been kidnapped too."

"How do you know this?" Ricky questioned.

Nora nodded to herself, preparing to unleash the words she feared might send her son over the edge. "I've been with Bob."

"You WHAT?" Ricky's insides constricted, feeling a pulsating fire envelop his body.

"CALM down, Ricky. Focus your goddamn self." She reached out and grabbed his hand, trying desperately to calm him down.

"Did you help him do this?"

"No."

"Then why are you with him?" He tightened his grip on her hand, causing her to grimace.

"Ricky," she stared into the fierceness of his eyes, looking over the tightened muscles in his faces, and the flaring of his nostrils: she had seen the emergence of an animal before, but not by this man. She hoped inside that the following words would console Ricky enough to not become more like his devilish father. "He pressured me. From the start, he told me of his plans and what he was going to do, and that if I didn't help him he wouldn't just kidnap your son, he'd kill him." Ricky's demons begin to flee from his body; his firm grip on Nora's hand loosened and he felt himself fall back against the cushioned booth, concentrated on what she was saying.

"He got out of prison. Somehow he got out. And when he did, and heard that you and that girl, you and Amy, and John were leaving to go off on a trip by yourselves he concocted a plan to cause pain. He wanted you to get closer to them on that trip, just so that the pain you felt when he ripped them away would be that much greater. Bob always intended for you to play a game of cat and mouse with him." Nora's mouth was running dry, but she licked her lips and continued to speak as best she could. "And then he found the opportune moment to take Amy when she came looking for you, basically falling right into his hands and completing the game for him.

"Now that you're here, you already know that you have to make a choice. You know he's given you an ultimatum: Amy or John. If you go for Amy, he'll sell your son; if you go for John, he'll sell Amy to some pimp on the street corner. And if anybody, _anybody_, from the outside attempts to intervene: the police, family - he'll deal with both of them, and then me."

Ricky felt his body press tighter against the cushioned bench. The true revelation of his demonic father's plan slammed into his chest like a brick wall, and he felt the air pressed from his lungs: his mind became hazy, and all worry and grief of the situation - of Amy and John - was replaced with a dull, numbing, shock.

The madness of the bar continued around them: people shouting, yelling at the TV's when their favorite team scored or messed up. Ricky's contorted gaze looked out into the nighttime party scene: at all the people, their smiling, happy-drunk faces as they danced and drank the night away. And here he sat, cold and numb, in a darkened booth at the back of a bar in LA, faced with a seemingly impossible decision, yet unable to do so much as even breathe.

"But Ricky," his mother reached out once more, piercing the eyes of her hopeless son with her own, and taking his hand in hers. "I'm here to help."

He stared back into her eyes, and for the first time felt the true love of his mother envelop him. His chest inflated finally, breathing in the smokey, dingy air. But it was air nonetheless. "What?" He whispered.

"Bob's whole plan resides on one make-or-break factor." Her eyes softened.

In that instant, Ricky's vitals began to regulate; the noises and distractions of the bar ceased, and he came to a realization.

"He doesn't expect you to help me." Ricky said.

Nora nodded in approval, like he had just given her the correct answer to a question. "He doesn't expect me to be anything more than a drugged up whore. He doesn't expect me to be a real mother. But here I am.

"Amy and John - they're in two different places in this city. But, Bob is only in one."

"You know what those places are?"

"I do," she replied. "Bob expects you to value the life of your son over his mother's, so he's only in one place: with Amy. By his account, when you reach John, I'm supposed to alert him and he will call you so you can listen to Amy as he does with her what he chooses." She could sense the building rage inside her son again.

"But I know where those places are. Both of them. Let me go to John, make sure he's safe, and bring him to you."

Ricky nodded once. "And when I go to Amy? Bob will be there."

"Yes."

"What would you have me do?"

"Do with him what you will," Nora replied without delay. "Just make sure that Amy is okay, and that you two get out of their safely. I'll give you the address of where she's at - it's a hotel - and then you meet me in a pre-designated place when it's over."

Ricky nodded. For the first time, he held no restraint in agreeing with his mother. After everything that had transpired, all of him that was ripped away for the purpose of pleasing his father, Ricky felt it exceedingly necessary to resort to vengeful tactics. He simply didn't care anymore. His well-being was the furthest thought from his mind: he was refocused, and would stop at nothing to get his son and Amy back, and take revenge on his father.

* * *

"Oh, so good to be home!" Ben exclaimed, opening the door to his room and sliding in their luggage.

"Indeed it is," Adrian replied with a laugh as she followed behind him, her hand resting on her bulging stomach. "That car ride really made me sleepy."

Ben collapsed face-first onto his bed, causing it to vibrate. "You're telling me," came his muffled reply.

"So, I was thinking," Adrian began, sitting down cautiously on the edge of his bed. "Can I stay here tonight?"

Ben lifted his head off the bed and looked at her hopeful face. "I don't see why not," he agreed after a moment. "I mean, we spent every night on the trip together so why not one more?" He let out a short laugh before rolling over onto his back.

"Exactly," she returned his flirtatious smile, pushing herself up off the cushioned mattress. As she moved to take off her shoes, a sudden cramp in her midsection halted her. She stood rooted in pain, closing her eyes and wincing as it became more prevalent and sharp.

"Adrian?" Ben's smile faded instantly; his body erected off the bed, his muscles constricted. "Adrian, are you okay?"

"Ben," she said, trying to sit back down on the bed. The pain increased once more, and Ben's eyes widened as blood began to drip on the floor from beneath her skirt.

"Oh, my God," Ben said, feeling a slightly squeamish feeling overtake him. "I'll get my dad, Adrian. Okay?"

"No, I'll be fine." She winced again: the pain erupted inside her. "Ben!" She fell back on the bed, cupping the bulge of her stomach with both hands.

Ben's only reaction was to reach over to his nightstand and grab the phone, hurriedly dialing the three dreaded three numbers.


End file.
